Drowning In My Fire
by Crystal Clear321
Summary: There is something sick about winning a game that either destroys your mind or body. If you lose, both your body and mind are lost. If you win, you lose your mind and sell your body. I used to think that the only winners were those who died quickly and painlessly in that arena. But that was before I found love in the person I'd least expected; Finnick.
1. Chapter 1

I awaken in the hovercraft. All I see is pristine white light, and for a moment, I think I'm dead. But death is too merciful. I feel the harsh straps trapping me on the hospital bed. I hear the soft beeping of medical machines and the hushed whispers of the medics. My room smells of chemicals and disinfectant. Everything surrounding me is clean, meticulously perfect. Capitol standard.

With that thought, I begin to remember who I am. What I am. Katniss Everdeen. The Victor of the 74th Hunger Games. But I'm not a winner. The only winners are those who die painlessly and quickly in the Capitol's artificial, cruel arenas. And I'm not alive. Only existing. But I still remember why I'm here.

Because of Prim.

Yes, I remember. I remember cold nights shivering with Prim in the dark, our stomachs painfully empty. But I also remember the woods; my sanctuary. Where I was free. Where I sang with my father. Where I gathered from the earth to fill the bellies of my starving, fragmented family once my father died. Where I met my best friend Gale. Where I was surrounded by real things: soil, foliage, sunlight.

My life wasn't amazing, but before the Reaping, I was about as happy as I could have been with my situation. Yes, the reaping. My horror at the sound of Prim's name being called. My insane bravery at volunteering for her. Love makes people do crazy things. Peeta. He was chosen. Up at that stage, we shook hands, and I remembered my debt to him. Peeta saved my life once, but I would have to kill him in order to return to my sister.

We went to the Capitol. Peeta was golden, with his lies that he could so easily weave out of thin air. Oh, how he loved me, how he would die for me. If only I had known then that those weren't lies. Everything he did in the arena, he wanted to save me. And he did, in the Finale.

Just remembering the Finale brings waves of dizziness to my head and tears to my eyes. I am a murderer. How could I stand atop that cornucopia as Peeta pulled Cato to the jaws of those mutts? I was supposed to be in love with him! I was supposed to jump down and rescue Peeta even if it meant my own life. Yet there I stood, like a coward, as peeta's life was ripped away by those mutts. I wonder if I would be forgiven, though, since I ended his life quickly with an arrow to his heart.

Sobs rack my body. Tears burn along my skin, dripping to my neck. I shake, writhe, and strain against my constraints until doctors swarm around me to put me back to sleep. But I will have a little victory, by showing them what their cruelty has done to me. Turned me into a beast, a maniac. I wonder if I'd loved Peeta, if those kisses in the cave were real. I wonder if love is making me do crazy things at this very moment.

And the sleep medicine finally pulls me under.

* * *

"Katniss." Whispers a soft, silky smooth voice. Cinna.

I open my eyes to see him sitting beside my bed. But I'm no longer in the hovercraft. No scary wires protruding from my body. No soft beeping from cold machines. Just Cinna, and a wardrobe that must be filled by countless masterpieces.

"Hi," I focre. But I hear my voice crack. Cinna sees my pain through my eyes, and nods his head. I don't need to speak. I just need to get dressed. But I'm weak, so Cinna helps me stand, helps me dress. I don't mind his hands as they brush my bare skin. His eyes don't see me the way other men's might. No he sees me as a canvas. Add some color here, some detail there, and I am a work of art.

I look in the mirror, and hardly recognize myself. I'm not the same innocent girl I was before the games. I am dressed in a black dress with sharp gold accents. A gold collar of studs adorns my neck. My heels look like they could be used to stab. My makeup deep and smoky, like the ashes of a fire that once burned bright. I am vicious, cold, unforgiving. I smile.

I finally look like myself.

But Cinna has one last surprise. He pushes a button on one of the accents of the dress, and my dress is a molten masterpiece. Deep shades of crimson transform my dress into the glowing coals of a fire. I may have burned out, but my hatred is still burning.

"No more fake flames, no more girly smiles, no more false innocence. You're above their artificiality, you're above _them_."

I smile again. I can finally be who I've wanted to be for so long. Cinna gives me a knowing look and graces my forehead with the slightest whisper of a kiss before exiting the room with his familiar grace and poise. I sit back on my bed, glaring at something, nothing, everything. I don't let my mind wander. I sit, my own hatred festering inside of me until I hear Effie prance in on those thousand inch heels.

"Up, up, up!" She sings, her face beaming, "My little Victor will be late to her own viewing if she doesn't get moving! _My victor_." Effie says blissfully. Of course she's happy. Now that her district finally has another victor, she'll be invited to more parties, be able to afford to imbed jewels in her face, maybe she'll get to spend some time in the company of rich, powerful, famous Capitolites.

But I know that if Effie had walked even a step in my shoes, she'd know the endless suffering that my life has become. So I let her parade me around until we end up backstage of my viewing. Yes, I get to watch Rue and Peeta and every other tribute die before my eyes while surrounded by a sea of Capitolites. Today is just my day.

"Katniss Everdeen, please walk onstage to greet Ceaser Flickerman." An official of some sort directs me. I shut my eyes for a second, forcing down the wave of nausea that is threatening to floor me. As I walk onstage, I am greeted by lights and shrill cheers of those who enjoyed watching me kill. I keep my eyes trained on Ceaser, who has a dazzling smile plastered onto his face, beckoning me forward.

"Well isn't it our beloved Girl on Fire, Katniss Everdeen!" He shouts, his voice emulating even more cheers from the crowd as I take my seat. As soon as I'm sitting in my velvet, plush chair across from Ceaser, flames encircle us on the stage. They dance around us, but I feel caged. I couldn't walk two feet from my chair without being roasted, yet here in my seat, I feel oddly cool. "What do you think of these extra additions to the stage? I wanted everything extra special for the Girl on Fire!"

"The Capitol can never seem to do enough for me," I say, but I keep a glare plastered to my face. "Such a shame nobody else is here to join me." The hatred in my voice is palpable, and I'm sure everyone knows that I'm talking about Peeta. Though I doubt they would have let two victors live anyways.

Ceaser gives me a sympathetic look. "Quite a shame indeed." Before gesturing to the giant screen before us. And the horror begins.

The blood bath remains true to its name its gruesome, and the sight of all the blood makes me nauseous. So I tune it all out. I just think of the woods. My father. Home. Lamb stew. Anything. And It works. I get through about half the games. But Rue's cries bring me back to the reality of this moment. And I watch her die onscreen once again. I don't let myself break down. She deserves better. But I hear her whispering to me, making me promise to win. "I did it, Rue. I won." I whisper to myself.

Then I find Peeta. I'm nursing him back to health, kissing him in the cave, risking my life at the feast for him. But all for what? He died in the end anyway, and all I'm left with are mental scars and painful memories of the boy with the bread. He dies on the screen, and I'm still standing on that damn Cornucopia, tears streaming down my face as I shoot him, saving him the pain of being ripped to shreds. He sacrificed himself for me. He deserved to win more than I ever would.

By the end of the film I feel the tears on my face, and I know the Capitol has broken me. Maybe not for good, but I'll never be the same. Ceaser puts his hand on mine, trying to comfort me, but all I want to do is slap him, beat him. "Don't cry. He died so you could be happy. He died because he loved you." He says. But I don't want his sympathy.

I wipe the silent tears away. "Well I'm anything but. I wish I could have died with him. We loved each other, Ceaser. If things were the other way around, I know he would feel the pain that I feel right now." I lie. But I can't say the truth because I don't know what the truth is. Did I love him? To be honest, I don't know. Whenever I tell myself that I did, I feel like I'm lying for the Capitol. But whenever I say that I don't, I feel guilty and empty inside.

Ceaser asks me a few more questions, which I answer numbly, but I can't feel, can't think. And then Snow is stalking towards me, the Victor's crown in hand. He places the thin gold tiara on my head, and I feel like a deer caught in headlights. I smell blood wafting from his lips, his snake eyes looking through my eyes into my soul.

"I will be throwing a grand celebration at my Mansion in your honor. I expect you to be there so I can inform you on some… issues." He says, a twisted smile on his face. I can only wonder what he means.

As soon as Snow exits the stage, the fire around my chair diminishes and… wait, did Snow just _walk through_ it? But I remind myself that its fake flames, like at my tributes parade. I'm whisked offstage and don't even get to speak to Haymitch before being shoved into a limo.

I sit inside the limo in silence. But it doesn't stop my thoughts from wandering. What could Snow want? What did I do wrong? I played his sadistic game didn't I? Is it that… no, I'm sure everyone knows that I hunt. Is he upset that I didn't do more for Peeta? I simply have no idea. I feel my breathing speed up and I feel like I'm going to pass out from nervousness. Will he hurt Prim? Has he ever even had celebrations like this for other tributes?

I can't stop myself from questioning everything, but I'm finally pulled away from my thoughts when the limo stops and the doors to the limo open. "This way miss." Says the driver. I walk out of the limo but I'm not steady on my feet. The flashes of cameras and cheers of Capitolites as they greet me don't help either. I grab onto an Avox to keep myself from falling, and she looks afraid. I see the fear in her eyes, even though her body language doesn't show it. How many times will I be reminded that I'm a murderer?

" Please," I gasp, "I need to see the President."

So I hurriedly follow the Avox past the adoring crowds with their blue hair and jewels and designer makeup masks . We weave our way through the endless maze of crowds and Snows Mansion. It seems almost as if I could fit all of District 12 here. We finally arrive at a room on the fifteenth floor of Snows mansion. I bet I could fit Victors Village on this floor.

The Avox knocks on the door infront of us before scurrying away. The massive door opens and I am greeted by the evilly smirking President Snow.

"My, Katniss. Cinna has certainly outdone himself." Snow says, walking over to a balcony overlooking his courtyard. "Come in, I don't bite."

Oh, he does much worse. But I comply. "Why am I here?" I ask. I need to be away from this place as soon as possible. The scent of bloody roses stings my nose, hurts my brain. I can hear the fear in my voice.

"You have had an effect on my citizens, Miss Everdeen. You have no idea how many sponsors were lining up to buy gifts for you. But now it is your turn to repay them."

Repay them? Repay sponsors who have millions of dollars of work done on their bodies alone while I spend every day with the threat of starvation hanging over my head. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"Oh of course you don't. Miss Everdeen, you have no idea how much money my citizens would pay for a single night with the Girl on Fire." Snow says, that evil grin plastered to his face. "Just think of the _profit_. On my part, of course."

And it hits me. Prostitution. Snow will sell me just to make an easy dollar while I'll be tortured here in the Capitol as long as I'm found desirable. For some reason, I think back to all of those poor girls selling themselves at Cray's door. I remember thinking about how, if I'd been older, I'd probably be among them. Except I learned to hunt, and I began to look down on them, pity them. But now, I'm no different.

"But- but… yo-you can't…" I can't form words. And I know from his smile that yes, he can.

"Remember the day of the reaping, dear?" Snow says, his eyes boring into my soul. " You really love your sister Prim, don't you? But imagine if she was gone, just like," he snaps his fingers, "That."

And I can imagine. That had been the exact reason I'd volunteered in the first place. I'd fought so hard, but gained so little. If anything, I'm in a worse position than I was before the Reaping.

"Fine, I'll play by your rules, as always, but just promise that you won't lay a finger on Prim, ever." I say, the threat in my voice and my eyes palpable.

"Oh, Katniss." Snow says, "I don't have to, I have others to do so for me, if need be. And don't worry if you have no experience, I have arranged for some better…mentors… to assist you in Twelve."

And with that, He dismisses me with the wave of a hand. There is no questioning, I'm going to be his little whore whether I want to or not.

* * *

I don't remember much, the rest of my time in the Capitol is a blur. All I think about is Snow's heavy threats. But I know I'll have to comply. I didn't just survive the Hunger Games only to let Prim die.

Prim.

Until I arrive in District Twelve, my thoughts are preoccupied with Prim.

* * *

**AN:** So, as you may have noticed, I redid Chapter 1. I just thought it was too short and after reading over it, I thought that there were a lot of flaws for me to fix sooo... yea. Here's the new and improved Chapter 1! Its basically the same thing with some extra detail.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** Wow I am so happy I decided to start this story over winter break, so hopefully I can get the story going before school's back and my updates will be more spaced out. Oh and also, thank you FanfictionWoman2000 for giving me the idea of using Finnick's POV. Anyways, here's chapter 2!

* * *

**Finnick's POV**

_I can't see where I am. I don't, can't, feel anything. All of my senses are obstructed as I float through misery and darkness. Then I hear it, like I'm still in that cruel, cold monitoring room for the Games. I hear her endless screams of pain and agony. Then I see a screen. It turns on, displaying her gruesome death. As the arena flooded with water, shark-like mutts were sent after her. They surrounded her, though she was unaware of them, just staying afloat, trying to outlast the other tributes. Then she is attacked. Her limbs are ripped apart, one by one, as she screams for me to help her. But I can't. I can't help her, and I can't look away. I try to close my eyes, but even then, I still see her dying. I want to raise my hands to my eyes and scrape them out, but my limbs are paralyzed. Then blood begins to leak from the screen, her blood. The reeking, metallic scent fills my sinuses. I feel it, fresh and warm, pooling around my feet. And her screams… calling me to help her as I watch the mutts rip open her chest and eat her heart out… the screams don't stop, even after the canon fires. My senses are on overdrive, surrounded by her death. Her blood is rising to my mouth, and I begin choking on it. I close my eyes, trying to keep the blood from them. I drown in her blood, until something starts shaking me. Suddenly I can move. I grip my attacker firmly by its neck._

Then I open my eyes and see…Mags. I come back to reality. I sit up in bed, wondering how long Mags has been standing over me, trying to wake me up from another one of my nightmares. I must have been screaming pretty loudly, too, if she heard me from her house, even if her house is right next to mine. Then I see that I left my window open. And it's the middle of the night.

"Umm… Thanks, Mags. For waking me up." I say, my voice hoarse. She just nods knowingly, kisses my forehead and leaves the room. She knows I just need to be alone now, but sometimes I wish someone would stay with me. Being a victor, I often get these nightmares, but no one in my family is willing to stay with me and sacrifice their sleep. My father chose to live outside the Victors Village, but Mags is almost like a mother to me, even though she doesn't speak due to the stroke she had a few years back.

I think about my nightmare. It was so real. It was like Annie was dying again, yet I was helpless to save her. The pain is fresh, like she died just yesterday. I know it was really several years ago, and being her mentor in the games, all I could do was send her gifts. It was beyond my power to save her, but I never go through a day without thinking of her. Annie, whose laugh was full of life. Her eyes, deep blue like the ocean we would swim in. Her smile, bright and radiant like the sun.

I can't believe that I had held on to the hope that she might survive her games. The President knew I loved her. Snow was probably just worried that she might get in the way of my…_work_… in the Capitol. I remember thinking that they had thrown her into the games on purpose, but would still let her compete like everyone else. I should have known better.

Annie went mad shortly after her district partner was beheaded, and hid for most of the games. I kept her alive, but knew she would never be the same again. When the arena flooded, I had foolish hope that she might be able to outlast the other tributes. She could swim well, and could hold her breath even longer than I could. And then they sent the mutts. That was when I realized that the Capitol had never intended for her to live in the first place. They gave me hope and then snatched it away to show their power, I guess.

The rest of my night was restless. My mind was numb with grief. I tossed and turned, but I couldn't stop thinking of my dream. How real the screams were. How powerless I was to do anything. The Capitol was so cruel. Damaging me beyond repair on the inside, but forcing me to wear a mask of seductive charm for the cameras as well as my… clients. I stared at the ceiling, shadows dancing before my eyes. I started to drift into sleep, but forced myself to stay awake, fearing another nightmare. Soon, the sun broke the horizon , coloring the ocean peach, yellow, pink. The color streamed through my open window giving everything in my room a soft orange light. Annie loved the sunrise. She used to always wake me up early so we could sit on the beach and watch it together. I remembered one morning, the soft light of the sunrise had illuminated her face, making her look like an angel. That was the day we had our first kiss together. ..

The memory is too much though. All my pain from losing her surges back and hits me like a harsh blow. The tears surge forward, and I sob for almost an hour, whispering her name. My mind is flooded with memories of her. But eventually I have to pull myself together. I can't let anyone in District 4 know how broken, possibly crazy, I am.

I get dressed and head downstairs. I think of eating but I'm not hungry. I think about going down to beach for a swim, since swimming always seems to clear my mind. I quickly eat a small breakfast so that I have some energy for swimming, but I don't hold it down. My mind is still occupied with Annie. After a while just staring out of my window, I decide I'll just go see Mags, maybe apologize for waking her, even though I don't need to. As a victor, she understands my nightmares. I'm sure she has some of her own, though not as frequent as mine.

I walk towards the door, but notice a small note that must have been slipped underneath. How long has it been here? How could I not notice it until now? Maybe Mags left it on her way out. She always writes down her thoughts since she can't speak. But she wouldn't leave it on the floor. I've always known her to be extremely neat and organized.

Hesitantly, I pick up the note and read it. All that's written there is a phone number, and the letter **H.** I wonder who could have sent this. The paper isn't tough and neat like the stuff in the capitol. It seems thin and uneven. I walk over to the phone and dial the number. I immediately recognize the harsh, slightly slurred voice on the other line.

"Uhhgh? Finnick? That you?" says Haymitch, the… unlikable victor from 12.

"Haymitch?" I ask, slightly surprised, but my voice has it's unpleasant edge that comes out when im not wearing the Capitols mask. Why would _Haymitch_ want to contact me?

"Well hello there, Pretty Boy." He says, sounding…amused? "Not in the Capitol, huh? No girls around?"

I hear a cautious undertone in his voice. Whatever he wants to talk to me about, he doesn't want anyone hearing.

"Just me. What about you? Any alcohol around?" I say, slightly offended. I would do anything to stay away from the Capitol for the rest of my life.

"Good. And only a little alcohol. Now, do you have any idea why I've called you?" He asks. "Or did Snow break it to you first?"

Snow? At first I think he's talking about… clients. But why would Snow tell Haymitch about that? "Excuse me, but I'm not quite sure what you're talking about. But if this has anything to do with Snow, I don't want to be involved."

"Was I _asking_, Pretty Boy? I don't think so. I need your help with a certain situation, with Snows _orders_, may I add, and the last thing I need is complaints. Besides, you probably have the most experience in this, anyways." He says, any prior humor in his voice gone. I hope this situation is fishing related and not, well, sex related.

"Look, Haymitch, whatever this is, I'm certain I don't want t-"

"Listen, Pretty Boy, I don't want make you do this," He says, his voice slightly softer, "but you're going to have to comply, or else Snow wi-"

"Will what!? He already took Annie from me, I'm already his slave! He already killed my mother and my little sister! Why don't you just ask him to kill me, huh? That would be a lot easier for me, and at least then I won't have to keep lying to every girl in the Capitol." I'm hit by a wave of nausea, and spots dance before my eyes, so I sit down. I know I'll have to do what Snow wants, because there's still Mags and my father. "What do I have to do?"

"That's more like it. Now I'm sure you're familiar with our latest victor, Katniss Everdeen?"

"No. If you're asking me to sleep with-"

"I haven't asked you anything yet. But to answer your question… well, that's a yes and a no." He says quickly, "Katniss, well in the Capitol… she's been quite… desirable. Snow would have had her working as soon as she left the arena, but she doesn't… have any experience. The only time she's ever even kissed a boy was in the arena, and even then she was just acting."

"So what are you saying?" I ask, "You want me to… to…" I'm scared of what he wants me to do, because I have a feeling that this won't be just another one night stand.

"I'm sorry, kid," He says with real sorrow in his voice, "You and Johanna… you'll be mentoring Katniss. It's six months until her Victory Tour. Once she gets to the Capitol, she'll be starting."

"Johanna?" I say. She quit her work only a month after she started, "She's not exactly the helpful type…"

"Don't worry about that, I have it covered." He says, chuckling, " you know they're not allowed to drink in District 7, don't you?"

I sigh, "So when am I supposed to head to 12?"

"Tonight there'll be a train to 12. Don't worry, no one will be asking questions, the peacekeepers have been informed that you'll be leaving. The train's at midnight, so I doubt anyone will see you leave."

"Alright…" I say, but there's still a single question lingering on my mind, "Haymitch… does Katniss know that I-"I stop myself. Everything about it is so wrong, even though I do this all the time. But this is still different. Both of us will be forced.

"I'm working on it…" he says cautiously "just go… go pack your bags. Remember, _midnight_"

And with that, he hangs up. I'm left sitting with the phone in my hand, and I just stare at it, and whisper, "I'm so sorry, Katniss…" as if she can hear me.

I pack some clean clothing into a large bag, but I figure I won't need to bring too much with me. I do, however, pack the last piece of Annie I have left. A seashell attached to a woven leather necklace. I remember when she found it. We were diving in the depths of the ocean, just a week before the reaping that doomed her. We found countless beautiful things beneath the ocean, but it wasn't until we reached shore that we found it, laying perfectly, without a crack in the sand. We both reached for it at the same time…

I stop the memory. I need to push Annie out of my mind if I'm to… teach Katniss. Thinking about her will only make things harder. I shove the necklace in the bottom of my bag before heading to Mags' house. Her house smells sweet, like coconut. I find her inside weaving a blanket. She sees me and smiles, and then writes a note.

_Get any sleep?_

"No," I say honestly, surprised she can't see how tired I am. I tell her about what Haymitch just told me, and before I can even finish she gives me a warm hug before writing,

_Finnick, I know you don't want to do this, but just… remember what you feel in your heart. I don't expect you to understand now, but you will eventually._

* * *

And sitting on my train, heading to 12, I don't understand. I try to get even a restless nap, but I can't. My mind wanders but I can't focus on anything. I settle for watching the world fly past me in the window. Eventually, I pass out. I'm awoken by an Avox at about 4 in the morning. I managed to sleep, if only a few hours, without nightmares, so I'm pretty disappointed. Yet I know I'll need to get to Haymitch quickly so no one sees me. I quickly stretch and before I know it, find myself knocking at Haymitches door.

* * *

**AN: **And there's Chapter 2! I hope you liked it. Please review because I am open to new ideas and would love your input! c:


	3. Chapter 3

**Katniss' POV**

My hands tremble as I try to pick up my cup of tea, but they're trembling so badly that I spill the dark tea all over the pristine white tablecloth covering the tiny coffee table in front of me. Effie shoots me a disapproving look as an Avox comes to help me clean it up, but I insist on wiping up my mess on my own. My whole body is shaking with excitement and anticipation as I lean back in my seat. During the whole train ride, I haven't gotten a wink of sleep. I can't stop thinking about arriving home. Home, where Prim is waiting for me. Home, where I can resume hunting with Gale. Home, with the Hob, the woods, the lazy peacekeepers, even Buttercup. I can run free in the forest again. But I keep myself from daydreaming. Even if my life will be momentarily peaceful, I'll never be able to live my old life. Even before I go on my Victory Tour in six months, things won't really be the same…

Trying not to let my mind wander too much, I just look out the window and watch the world whiz by. In a matter of minutes, I'll be able to see Prim. Sweet, little Prim. And for the first time since I won the Games, I am actually happy that I won. Prim will be safe now. I don't have to worry about her getting reaped anymore, and I'll never have to feel the pain of watching her starve. She'll always have enough, along with Gale's family. Little Posy, Rory, and Vick will all have enough to eat now.

After only about a few minutes, we arrive in District 12, and it looks like everyone in the whole district arrived to see me. Every single person at the train station seems to be wearing a genuine smile, and I can't seem to understand why. I guess I can understand why some of the people I traded with were happy. They were thankful they could still eat the meat that I hunted…

The thought of food reminds me. No, they're not smiling because their good friend Katniss Everdeen has returned. They're smiling because District 12 has a victor. And having a victor means food. Throughout the year, the victor's district will be showered with presents, most likely food. All the skinny, starving children are smiling up at me because I have sacrificed to keep them alive, even if that wasn't my intention. But thinking like this only reminds me of Peeta, how he saved me with those loaves of burnt bread even though his mother beat him… and I never saved him. Never even thanked him for his kindness. And now I feel the weight of a debt unpaid thrust upon my shoulders.

I feel weak, even though I stand tall and force a smile upon my face. Haymitch leads me through the crowd which parts for us, everyone congratulating me. If only they knew. If only they knew the pain I suffer from inside. But I hold myself together, and before I know it, Haymitch is leading me through Victor's Village to my new house where Prim and my mother must already be waiting. Before we walk up to the door, Haymitch stops.

"Are you coming?" I ask. I thought he would at least come knock on the door with me, say hello to my mother and Prim, but he just stands there, right in front of the first step up to the door.

"Listen, Sweetheart, I know you might want your reunion to be a little more private…" He says, and I'm surprised. Now I can see that he's sober, actually using his head. And he's right; I should go alone, because I know we'll all be crying tears of joy. But mine will melt into tears of sorrow as I remember that Peeta's family won't be reunited with him.

"Oh… okay." I say, turning away from Haymitch, heading up the steps, before he stops me once again.

"Listen, Katniss…" Katniss… not Sweetheart. "You have about two weeks before…"

Before my… training. "My mentors get here I suppose?" I see Haymitches face twist into a sour look of sorrow and…distaste?

"Umm…yes. And Cinna will be here too, to get you… accustomed to Capitol… _fashions_."

The thought of Cinna being here slightly comforts me, but I still don't know who else will be coming to help me. And I don't think I want to know. "Care to tell me who else will be here?"

"You'll find out when they get here. Now, go say hi to your family." Haymitch says, pointing to the window where Prim is excitedly waving at me, holding a very displeased Buttercup.

"I- I'll see you later then." I say before turning to my new house and walking up to the door.

I barely manage to knock the door because it's flung open and a laughing, crying Prim jumps into my arms. We stand there, hugging each other for I don't know how long, and in my mind all I can think is _'I did it Prim, I won and now you're safe'_ , but I can't form the words.

"Where's mom?" I ask, with a mixture of disappointment and disapproval. If she slipped into the dark void that she fell into when my father died… I just don't know. I don't know if I'll ever forgive her. In fact, I don't think I will, if she left Prim alone to watch me suffer. But Prim reads my expression.

"Oh, don't worry, Katniss. She's at Hazelles. Vick came down with a fever a few days ago, but now that you're a victor, mom could afford to buy antibiotics." She says with admiring smile, even while Buttercup hisses at me.

"Yeah, I'm a victor now. And that means I can afford to drown you in a big tub of soapy hot water." I tell Buttercup, but I can't suppress a little smile. Prim, however, fakes a horrified expression and protectively scoops up Buttercup.

"You can't drown him if you can't catch us!" she says before running upstairs. She's quick, and I've already lost sight of her before I'm even climbing the steps. The house is large, and upstairs there are definitely more rooms than we need. I'm trying to figure out which one to check first when I hear Buttercup purring loudly in the room right behind me. I pretend to call for Prim before darting into the room and scooping up Buttercup from Prim's arms from their hiding spot in the roomy closet.

"Gotcha!" I say, holding up Buttercup away from me to avoid his long claws. I lift him up high in the air, just out of Prim's reach as she squeals and jumps, trying to reach him.

"No fair!" says Prim, crossing her arms and giving me a non-convincing glare. I set down Buttercup, who immediately darts down the hall and downstairs.

"Let's go visit Vick, okay?"

* * *

I stealthily creep through the woods with my bow and arrow in hand, heading to my usual spot with Gale. Upon arriving at Hazelle's, Vick told me that Gale went off to the woods, yet no one knows why. He doesn't need the food to trade, since we have more than enough money now. But then again, _someone _needs to get meat for Greasy Sae's soup. I see a large wild turkey run right past me, which baffles me. Usually the prey around here knows better than to walk right in front of me, but I guess maybe they've gotten used to not having me around. All of a sudden, an arrow pierces the turkey.

"I thought your reflexes would be better than that, after surviving the Games and all," says a familiar voice.

Gale.

I turn around and see him standing behind me, bow in hand. A small grin on his face. There are a million things I want to say to him right now but all I do is run up to him and give him a warm embrace. My body fits into his like a glove. He smells of pine. And now I realize how much I've missed him, a piece of home that I was missing but I could never figure out what that piece was. And suddenly I feel guilty. I barely thought about him in the arena. I wonder how he feels about my supposed romance with Peeta, but I quickly dismiss the thought. Soon I'll be involved with many _'romances'_.

"I've missed you, Catnip," he says. I feel his fingers playing with a lock of my hair.

"I missed you too, Gale," I say, pulling away. I don't want that hug to last too long. I need to make sure I don't lead him on, because it will only make things worse, and I couldn't bear to hurt him.

"I- I'm sorry about… about Peeta…" He says, but I can see numerous emotions in his eyes. Jealousy, anxiety, relief, sorrow… and then I feel so many more emotions welling up inside myself. My mind begins to return the dark void of emotions I felt when he died. But I can't dwell on it, I can't change the past. I know Peeta would want me to be happy, and I need to be strong for those I love who are still alive.

I try to speak, but all that comes out of my mouth is an awful choking sound, and that's when the tears begin to flow. No, not tears. Endless sobs that wrack my whole body. I fall back into Gales arms and let out all of the tears I've been holding back. At least out here Prim won't be able to see me cry. Gale leads me over to our usual spot where we sit down and he wraps his arms around me, rubbing my back. But all of his attempts to soothe me fail. I sob for nearly an hour before I calm down, but I don't think I'll be able to speak.

"Don't cry. He wanted you to be happy." Gale says, but I see pain in his eyes, and in that moment I know how Gale feels about me, and it's not friendship.

"I- It's just… he saved my- my life, before… before I hunted. And I-" I stop, my tears threatening to spill over. We sit in silence. I can see Gale is thinking, probably deciding whether or not to ask me another question. Eventually, he makes up his mind.

"Did you love him?"He asks, not looking directly at me, but at the woods behind me. I know I have to go about this carefully, but to be honest, I don't know how I felt. I don't know how I feel about Gale either.

"I know that I cared about him… but I don't think I really loved him… not in that way. In fact, I don't think I've ever loved anyone like that. I can't afford to. I need to take care of Prim, but I'm helpless to save her from things like the reaping. I don't think I could ever let myself love someone in the way that leads to marriage, to a family. I would never be able to keep my children safe. Not even as a victor. Because no one is safe from the Capitol…" I say, and I hope that Gale understands. And I really was being honest. I don't want love that leads to children, because I could never bring a child into a world this savage, this wrong. Even though I can tell that Gale knows I'm being honest, I can see the hurt in his eyes, and it hurts me, too.

"And what if there was no Capitol, no games, no threat of starvation?"

"But there are, and we can't change that." I say. Because I know the pain that I'll cause if I plainly say that I don't love him.

"Yes, we can. It's not too late, you know. We could still run away. Even with our families, we could survive." He says. I see the hope in his eyes, I see he's serious.

But I stand up. "Gale… you know we wouldn't survive in the woods. You know our siblings wouldn't last, and we can't abandon them either, because you know the Capitol will make them suffer if we leave. And I'm the newest victor now. We might have had a chance that the Capitol would simply overlook us when I was nobody, but now, if I go missing, Snow will send everyone after me. Every hovercraft, every peacekeeper. And he won't settle for a bullet in my head, he won't let me starve. I'll be his captive forever now." I see the confusion, hurt, anger in Gales eyes, but I can't afford to lose him. It won't be worth saving him if he decides to do something stupid just because I can't be with him. I know I don't love him in that way, but he wouldn't understand.

"And why not? Why is it so different now that you're a victor. Even if you died, there will be another next year, and the year after th-"

"Because, Gale! Because I'm worth something to him now! He can sell me now, apparently I'm desirable in the Capitol. And I can't do otherwise, because I have to save Prim, our families. I'm doing this to save your damn ass! I can tell how you feel about me, but you have to move on, becau-"

I'm cut off as Gale stands up, pulls me towards him, and plants a kiss on my lips. I can feel the emotion in it, but I wish Gale could find someone else. Why did he have to be in love with me? Why, when he could have any other girl he wanted?

I taste his tears.

He pulls away and walks off, leaving me standing there, alone, raw with emotion as I watch him disappear in the distance. I can tell I've hurt him, but I know I did the right thing. Because there are too many reasons I can't return his feelings, and it would only cause more pain if I did. But I know in my heart that if I did really love him, I would ignore the Capitol's threats. If I did love him, I would've run away with him a long time ago. Yet I didn't. I know in my heart the reason why.

I don't love Gale.

* * *

**AN:** Okay, so I know what you're probably thinking; "WHEN IS KATNISS/FINNICK GOING TO HAPPEN?!" But I have a good reason, I promise! I honestly wanted to add more in my story because I feel like a lot of Katniss/Finnick fanfictions cut a lot of good dialogue out to get straight to their romance, which I didn't want to do. So bear with me for another couple chapters and I promise I'll speed things up from there.

Aaaanyways, please review to let me know how I'm doing, and give me some fresh ideas and constructive criticizem! c:

(BTW is criticizem a word?)


	4. Chapter 4

Ever since my fight… well not really a fight. Ever since my argument, I guess, with Gale, we haven't spoken. In fact, for the past two weeks, I haven't even seen him. Part of it is due to the fact that he works in the mines now, but even after he gets back, I can tell he's been ignoring me. I'll go over to Hazelle's and when I ask for him, she gives me a sad smile and tells me he's busy.

I lie in bed, rays of morning sunshine streaming in through the window, and try to think of ways to talk to Gale. Ways I could make him see that I do care about him, but that he should find someone else. Or maybe I should just forget about it, leave him alone to avoid making things worse. And then there's my predicament with President Snow. My thoughts clash in my head until I can't take it anymore. I'm stressed from just thinking, and I want to go hunting, but I know that I'll just start thinking about Gale again. I decide maybe I'll just go to Haymitch… maybe have a drink. I know I shouldn't, but I'm so stressed I don't care.

I get dressed and head downstairs. My mother and Prim don't notice me on my way out; they're treating a small child with the flu. I know that the only way the child will survive is if he gets more food, but I know his family won't be able to afford it. It breaks my heart, and I remember how helpless I was that day in the rain. How helpless I was until Peeta threw me that bread… yep I'm going for a drink.

I walk up to Haymitch's house and don't even bother to knock on the door, expecting him to either be very drunk or very hungover. I find neither. In fact, his house is actually clean, spotless even. I look around downstairs, but Haymitch is nowhere to be found. Then I hear a muffled sound from upstairs. The sound progresses, getting louder until I think I can make out what's being said.

"…gonna have one sorry ass when his little plan backfires… six months… she won't be any good…" says a harsh, unfamiliar female voice.

"… I'll try… too innocent… never work…" says a deep voice. Something about it almost seems familiar, but I can't place it.

Then I hear Haymitch yell, "Look, I don't care, we have to do this, or everyone's dead, alright? Well, probably everyone but us, just to make us suffer. Besides, you know she won't be any good to us if Snow decides to take away the very reason she still keeps going for."

As I walk up the stairs to where the voices are, I hear harsh girl speaking again, "Oh you know he can't touch me anymore. There's no one left for me, anyways. And if he decides to kill me, well, you know how the districts will respond to that. They'll see right through any cover-up. But if-" The woman stops talking as I fling back the door and step into the small room.

I'm not entirely surprised by what I see. Haymitch is sitting at a small table laden with alcohol across from two victors: Finnick Odair and Johanna Mason. I should have expected it. Finnick, with his good looks and charm, the heartthrob of the Capitol, of course Haymitch would have chosen him to mentor me. But I know right away from the distant, broken look in his eyes that his love affairs in the Capitol are all an act. He, too, has been used. And I immediately take back every harsh remark I have said about him in the woods with Gale. How he's the male version of a slut, how he's superficial, how disgusting it is that he would sleep with Capitol women, let alone want them, love them. He's just another one of Snows puppets.

The fact that Haymitch recruited Johanna Mason somewhat surprises me, though. She's a vicious killer, outspoken, rude. I understand why rowdy men in the Capitol might have wanted her, but from their conversation it sounds like Snow has already taken away her family. So even if she does have experience, I can't imagine how Haymitch could have recruited her.

"I'm just in this for the alcohol." Johanna says in a slightly slurred voice, reading my thoughts. "In District 7, drinking's outlawed. Can't have anyone squashed with a tree, or killed by a tree in some other form." She says, throwing back her head and laughing like she said something hilarious. How can she think hangings are funny?

I glare at Haymitch. How could he have recruited her to work with me!? So far, it sounds like she'll be drunk the whole time. But Haymitch always knows what I'm thinking. "Just be happy I didn't get someone from 1."

I was thankful that there was going to be a woman helping me; I'd honestly be more comfortable asking her questions than Finnick. Although, with her abrasive attitude, I'm not sure I would want to ask her anything regardless. A knock on Haymitch's door brings me back from my thoughts.

"That must be Cinna." Finnick says, as if all the energy and life has been sucked from his body. Then suddenly, he becomes the Finnick I know on tv, with the charm and confidence that could seduce any girl. He gives me a cocky grin, "You know, Cinna will be helping you choose you new _attire. _Haymitch didn't want me doing it, even though I'll be seeing it all anyways."

Finnick begins to move toward the doorway, where I'm standing, so that he can go get Cinna. I can tell, though, that he purposely bumps into me and says- 'Sorry. I hope you're not too uncomfortable with physical contact.' -In a seductive whisper.

Haymitch must see my discomfort, because he says, "Don't be so put off by him. He acts this way because nobody wants to have sex with a mopey crybaby. Besides, you'll have to act this way for the Capitol soon enough."

In that moment, it all feels too real. This sudden realization his me so fast I feel sick and I want to cry and scream and puke all at the same time. "I- I can't…" I don't say much before the choking sound I made in the woods with Gale comes out of my mouth instead of woods. But it's Johanna's drunken laughter at this noise that sends my flying down the stairs, past Cinna and Finnick, and up to my bedroom.

As I run through my house, I feel the worried stares of my mother and Prim, but I don't stop until I'm hiding under the sheets of my bed. It's there where I feel like I'm going to cry, but I can't. I don't feel anything. Both my body and mind are numb. I get out of bed and stare out of the window at the mockingjays flying up above. If only I could grow my own wings and fly with them, live in the woods. I wish I could be free of the Capitol, of Snow.

I crawl back in bed, and stare blankly at no fixed point. My ears don't hear Prim begging to come in, my mother trying to pick the lock to my room. I just lie there, in blissful oblivion of everything around me, my mind blank. Eventually I start to hear a voice, but I just want it to go away. But the voice persists, and I eventually realize that it belongs to Finnick. There's a faint tapping, clicking sound, and my door opens.

Upset that someone interrupted my… well, my zoning out, my escape, I begin to cry. I try to stop, to hold back my tears, but that only makes things worse. I keep trying to concentrate on not crying, so not to let Finnick see my vulnerability, and I don't notice that he's climbing in bed with me until I feel him wrapping his arms around me. His arms are strong, and it's momentarily comforting to be held by him, to feel safe. He strokes my hair, calming me even more.

"Shhhh, don't cry…" He says, seeming to genuinely try to comfort me. "I know you don't want this to happen, but you have to stay strong. For your family."

"But… I-It's not just that, I-" I stop myself there. I don't want any involvement with Finnick Odair. I don't want him to see me cry, to come comfort me like some hero. I don't want to tell him about everything else in my fucked up life that makes me want to- to… I don't know. But now I wish that I had died in that arena.

"I know. It's Peeta, isn't it?" He says. How could he know? "And I know that all of this makes you want to give up, to throw your life away, but I know that there are things in your life worth living for. People that you need to be here for."

"It's just… Peeta should have lived… not me." I say, and suddenly a waterfall of words flows from my mouth. I tell Finnick about everything, starting with when my father died. The day Peeta saved my life. Hunting in the woods. The day Prim was reaped. My disgust of the Capitol, my suffering in the arena. Rue, Peeta. My conversation with President Snow, my arrival in District 12. Gale. And what just happened at Haymitch's. How I don't want to live, but I can't die, how I have to be forced to do President Snow's slavework.

Finnick, not too surprisingly, can relate. He lost his mother and little sister to the Capitol, and hardly ever sees his father anymore. I hear the deep pain in his voice when his love, Annie, died in her own Games. Even though, I never loved Peeta the same way he loved me, I think I can still relate. He doesn't go into his life of prostitution, probably to keep from scaring me, but he tells me about how he's had to fake most of his life, lie to clueless girls in the Capitol, to keep his father and his mentor from his Games, Mags, alive.

I'm touched by his honesty, his openness with me, and when he gets up to leave, I almost ask him to stay. Almost. He kisses me on the forehead and leaves without a word, and I still feel the warmth from his lips on my face as I try to drift off to sleep, even though it's the middle of the day. But I'm hoping that I can be free of my painful memories, maybe dream a peaceful dream of a time before Panem, when people still had at least a little freedom. When children weren't turned against each other in a fight to the death. The thought calms and comforts me.

I drift off to sleep, but I should've known better. My dreams turn to nightmares of blood and manipulation and lies and death. A masked figure walks up to me with a mirror in hand. I look into it and see myself back in the arena, as well as others. I watch each and every death, hear every scream. I envy the boy from District 3, who died quickly with just a flick of Cato's wrist.

I should have known my dreams would end up as nightmares, because even when you leave the arena, the arena never truly leaves you.

* * *

**AN: **So here's Chapter 4! So I decided that I would just hurry up and get to the point when Katniss meets Finnick because if I didn't do it now it would probably take me a while to get it done. Since school is back ( :c ) I won't be able to upload as often, maybe once or twice a week, but it would really help to get more feedback and ideas for things I can add to future chapters.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** Alright, so I finally got chapter 5 up! Yay! So... unfortunately since I now have homework to worry about with school back I'm probably only going to be uploading once or twice a week now. But anyways... Here's chapter 5!

* * *

I walk downstairs to find my mother and Prim eating breakfast with Haymitch, Johanna, and Finnick. How could he?! I can't believe he introduced Prim to the people who would be… would be… I don't know. But Prim is so innocent, even more than I. And the fact that Haymitch has told them without my permission… I swear when I get the chance I'll rip his throat out.

But then I notice that my mother and Prim don't have saddened expressions. In fact, my mother is smiling while talking to Haymitch and Johanna (who seemed to have kept their composure, or at least refrained from getting drunk). I notice Finnick showing Prim how to tie various intricate knots at the corner of the table, while she eagerly tries to attempt them herself.

"Well good morning, Sweetheart. I just thought I would introduce your new mentors for your victory to your mother and sister." Says Haymitch as I quietly walk into the room.

So he didn't tell them, at least not the whole truth. I know I'll probably have to tell my mom soon, and Prim will probably eventually figure things out if I end up being anything like Finnick. Yet she sits next to Finnick, and even though their hands occasionally brush as he shows her how to tie a knot that even her nimble fingers can't perfect, Prim seems oblivious to his beauty. She doesn't even blush as he whispers something into her ear and she giggles.

Of course Prim would be oblivious to the fact that she's sitting right next to the Capitol's heartthrob/sex toy. She's never really been the kind of girl that develops crushes easily, but I guess she hasn't exactly been able to focus on boys since we're both so focused on just staying alive. But I honestly can't believe that my mother has allowed a person of his reputation sit so close to innocent little Prim, even if he looks just like a big brother teaching her to tie knots, like a part of the family. I shake the thought out of my head and sit down next to my mother, across from Johanna.

"I wish you could have woken me up so I could have been there when you introduced my mentors to my family." I tell Haymitch, and can't refrain from throwing a quick glare his way.

"Oh don't be so grumpy, you needed your beauty sleep." He says sarcastically with a small smirk. I wish I could slap him so badly, but I know that he's trying to make it seem like I need to prepare to look my best for my Victory Tour.

"I think you could have woken her earlier. If you ask me, she doesn't need it." Finnick says, with a grin. His eyes linger on me a moment too long before he turns back to Prim. The fact that he's flirting with me in front of everyone involuntarily brings a blush to my face before I can stop it. I hear Prim giggle and feel my face become even redder. And I hate Finnick all over again. Any sympathy or comfort I had with him yesterday has disappeared as he returns to being the Capitol's Finnick, who can even bring a blush to _my_ face.

I try to regain any composure I had earlier and nervously ask Johanna, "So, do you have any idea how soon it will be until you two start mentoring me?", glancing at Finnick.

She only smirks at me before glancing at Finnick and quietly saying, "Eager, are we?" too quietly for my mother to hear. Fortunately, she sees how perplexed I am and actually answers me, even though her tone is annoyed. "Not really. Haymitch wanted you to show us around District 12 first since we'll be staying here for a while. We have about five months right now, so we don't have to start that soon if you don't want."

"I don't see how it could take five months to prepare Katniss for her Victory Tour." My mother says questioningly.

"She just got out of the arena. She'll need some training." Haymitch says, and I really do agree. I haven't even been thinking about it, but when I'm looking down at the families whose sons, daughters, lovers, siblings I've killed, I have no idea how I could keep myself from breaking down.

Haymitch goes over some mandatory training I'll have to go through, even though I can tell he's making it all up off the top of his head. In my nervousess/boredom, I gnaw my lip and eventually can't stand Haymitch's endless drone of empty words, Johannah's preoccupation with sneaking spirits into her orange juice, and Finnicks muffled chatter with Prim about knots, and undoubtedly, me.

"I think I need some fresh air." I say before stepping outside. I'm not surprised that nobody follows me, but I'm slightly disappointed that Finnick doesn't come outside. But then I remind myself that I don't want anything to do with him, even if he'll be teaching me.

Outside is cold, with a small breeze ruffling my hair around my face, and I debate going inside for a jacket. My mind decides to go inside but my body starts walking somewhere else. My feet take me out of Victors Village and towards the Seam. Adults and children alike ignore me as I walk down the muddy streets, except for the occasional envious glance from those who have nothing. After wandering through the Seam, I finally end up at my old house.

How small and beat up it looks compared to my castle back in Victors Village. I stand outside, staring at the door, slightly nervous to go inside. It's been at least a couple of months since I've been home to my small shack of a home, but it feels several lifetimes away from my life now. I open the unlocked door to walk into the barren room. But I still feel the warmth and comfort of my father here, that was never present between the cold marble walls of my new house. There really isn't much left in here but some old furniture that would have looked so out of place in my house in Victors Village. I step back outside, despite the cold, and sit down on my front porch.

If only there had been a way to make sure Prims name had never been chosen. I would have never needed to volunteer, never been caught up in Snows games. I could still have my old life. It hadn't been much, but I would have certainly preferred it over my sickening new life. Suddenly, something catches my eye, and it's not part of the Seam.

Her hair, too light. Her clothes, too clean. Her step, too happy. It's Madge, perfect Madge with a ribbon in her hair and a basket in her hand. I have no idea what she could be doing in the Seam. She knows that I live in Victors Village now, and we don't exactly hang out outside of school, and even then, we hardly talk. Then I notice where she's headed, and it's not my house.

I watch as she walks up to Gales house and knocks on the door. He opens the door and the expression on his face is so heartbroken that it hurts even me. I watch as Madge says something sympathetically and hands him the basket. I suspect that its food since Hazelle told me that she doesn't want to accept food from us because Gale won't eat it, but by the expression on his face when he opens it, I can tell it isn't. His face seems to go from depressed to just glum, and then to almost happy as he cracks a smile and hugs her. Then before I know it Madge is skipping down the streets of the Seam back to town with a foolish, girly grin on her face.

I never really thought that Madge would ever like Gale that way, since he's always bitter towards her because of the fact that she has more, but it doesn't really surprise me. Gale is handsome, and can support himself and his family, and l see the way girls look at him at school. I just hope that maybe he'll develop feelings for Madge, and that maybe he could be happy with her. Maybe he could forget about me.

* * *

By the time I arrive home, it's already late afternoon. Haymitch, Finnick, and Johanna have already gone back to Haymitchs, and my mother is out at the hob getting herbs. I find Prim in her room brushing Buttercup's fur, who hisses and runs out the door as soon as I enter.

"Did you have to chase him out?" Prim says with a fake pout.

I let out a small laugh, "I don't think I have to the sight of me obviously disgusts him." I say, and I see Prim smiling at me almost mischievously.

"You definitely don't disgust Finnick." She says with a wide grin. I think back to his flirting earlier and his whispers in Prim's ear and wonder what else he might have said about me.

"Well that's good. I like to think that most people aren't revolted by me." I chuckle, brushing off his comment about me and my beauty sleep.

"Oh you know what I mean!" Prim giggles, rolling her eyes. I try changing the subject.

"He honestly seemed more interested in you than me." I say, genuinely curious about what he'd been talking about with Prim.

"Well, he was mostly showing me how to tie knots and undo them. He says he likes to tie knots to take things off his mind." She says, excitedly showing me a few knots that she'd mastered. She shows me numerous intricate knots that can easily be undone with a pull of the end of the rope. Her tiny fingers weave and pull and tie twenty knots on the same piece of rope and easily pull them apart with a single tug.

She then ties my hands to her bedpost with the most intricate, detailed, confusing knot yet that only takes her a few seconds to tie. "Try and undo _that_." She challenges me. I think and try to remember how most of the other knots she tied could easily be undone with a single pull of the rope. My fingers manage to find the rope despite being tied, and I tug in endless different directions, but the knot doesn't budge.

" How do you undo this?" I ask, genuinely stumped. I would throw my hands back in exasperation if they weren't tied.

"Finnick says he made this knot himself, so only he knows the secret to untying it. But he shared the secret with me. The trick is pulling with your teeth, but not too quickly or the rope will get stuck." Prim says, slowly pulling on the rope.

I suddenly realize what Finnick must have invented this rope for. Oh, the countless times he must have bound women with this rope until he'd done what he'd wanted, only to lustfully pull the rope ever so slowly with his teeth only to keep the women exited. To make them impatient. To want him even more. I realize how much work I must have cut out for me. How could I captivate a man like that? Not that I want to, but I know my life as well as those around me depend on it. But then another though creeps into my skull.

How could he have shown this to Prim? Sure, she must not realize what it was used for, but the thought that he would have shown her anything of the sort sickens me. In fact, right now, everything about Finnick makes me want to scream. The way he captivated my sister even without flirting, how he could easily elicit a blush from me with a single sentence, how broken he is, the walls he builds around himself to stay safe, and how good he is with his work even though he's being forced into it.

I congratulate Prim on being able to so skillfully master different difficult knots, even though she says he's only taught her the easy stuff, before quickly heading to bed, thinking about today, trying to stay awake in an attempt to keep nightmares at bay. However, as the night drags on, I feel my breathing slow and my eyelids droop. I try to focus on the moon outside, but that only makes me more tired. Before I know it, I am back in my world of nightmares.

* * *

I awaken to the sound of screaming. It's the middle of the night though, and it startles me. Then I realize that the screaming was my own, and I see Prim on the floor, looking up at me with a mixture of sorrow and fear. Had I thrown her to the floor in my crazed panic?

"Prim…" I say, and she calms down and stands up. "I think maybe I should go stay at Haymitchs tomorrow night. I don't want to wake you up at night."

Thankfully, she doesn't object. Prim walks over and gives me a hug before heading off to her own room. I stay awake until morning, scared of what might happen if I fall asleep. In the morning, I immediately go over to Haymitchs and tell him about my decision to sleep at his house. Thankfully, the homes in Victor's Village are so large that he, Johanna, Finnick, and I can all have our own bedrooms in his house, which I'm thankful for. I know I'll have to get physically close to Finnick eventually, but I'm in no hurry.

* * *

**AN: **And that's chapter 5! So review to let me know what you thought. Love it? Hate it? I gots to know!


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: **Wow. I'm really surprised how productive I've managed to be despite school being back. I guess I'm just lucky I haven't had much homework lately but I've been on fire, getting chapters done within a few hours. Anyways, here's Chapter 6. Enjoy!

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**Finnick's POV**

I wake at the sound of screaming. Dammit.

Being the first night in at least a month that I haven't been subjected to nightmares, it feels like a cruel joke to be woken up in the middle of the night. I should have expected it though. Sleeping in a house full of victors… well, someone's bound to have a nightmare. The screaming is female, but it's too harsh to be Katniss'.

Johanna.

Out of all the victors, Johanna seems to be one of the few who actually tolerate me. Maybe it's because she knows what I've been through. Or maybe it's just because everyone else thinks I'm a male slut, or overly sexy to the point that it's grotesque, or they're just too drunk or high to care. Either way, Johanna was subjected to Snow's _business _until she revolted and he killed her family. Ever since she's been a fiery pit of hatred. Only one thing keeps her alive. I know that when she eventually goes down, she'll go down fighting. Nothing will stop her on her quest to destroy the Capitol, and the only thing in her way is timing.

I should probably just try to get some more sleep, but I don't think I can with Johanna's screaming. I grudgingly pull myself out of bed and walk down the hallway to Johanna's door. Pain pierces the inside of my ears as I open the door to her deafening screaming. She's a writhing mess beneath her blankets. I see bite marks along her arm from which blood leaks onto her clean white sheets. I don't dare try to touch her. I know from experience that that would only make things worse for me. However, I do try calling her name, and immediately regret it. Her rabid eyes focus on me with searing hatred. For a second her eyes seem to clear, but it seems more like focus… then I notice the object. I barely escape the room and shut the door before the knife punctures itself in the tough wood just inches from my head. If Johanna were fully awake right now, I'd be dead.

My terror subsides and is replaced by relief. I wasn't killed, that's good. And her screaming has stopped. But I don't dare go back to bed. Instead, I go downstairs, turn on the electronic fire place, and sit down. If I go back to bed, I know for sure that I will be swamped with nightmares of knives. In fact, this encounter reminds me of my time in the arena. There was one tribute near the end of the games who was a whiz with knives. He was only about thirteen, near my age, but wasn't very skilled with survival. Or anything, for that matter, except for throwing knives. I'm pretty sure that the only reason he'd lasted to the final eight was because he was from one of the wealthier districts that could provide him with endless expensive knives and basic survival tools. Anyways, I had been weaving a net while concealed in the leafy brush on the edge of the small beach when I heard screaming. I'd suspected that someone had been caught in one of my nets but when I'd checked them, they were empty. The knife wielding tribute snapped a branch behind me, which essentially saved my life. If I hadn't turned so swiftly, my trident wouldn't have deflected… well, caught the knife.

His knife had caught it's smooth edge in one of the blades of my trident. For a second I was baffled, but I quickly wrenched it out and drove my trident through his chest before he could pull another knife from his belt. Upon further inspection I realized that the blade was made of diamond, no doubt a priceless gift from his district. The blade was so sharp, it had sliced the razor blades of my own beautiful trident. But the arrogance translated through that knife was revolting. Despite my district still being a Career district, there were many who couldn't afford much in the poorer parts of town, and I could only pity the other poorer districts like 11 or 12. I'd been so appalled that I'd stuck the knife in his forehead before leaving his corpse…

"Hellooo… Finnick?" Says a voice, bringing me back to reality. Great, I've done it again. In the middle of my flashback, I hadn't even noticed that Katniss had entered the room and was occupying the chair next to mine.

"Oh… umm, sorry." I say, shrugging off her waving hand in front of my face.

"You okay? I heard screaming and a loud noise. When I entered the hallway I found a knife sticking out of Johanna's door." She says, her expression a mixture of fear and curiosity. Almost like she was concerned… I wave the thought away, though. If anything she's appalled by me and is just worried that Johanna will go around stabbing people. Besides, I did completely invade her privacy and space when I went into her room a few days ago. But I was worried about her…

"Well, she's a Victor. What did you expect?" I say, letting out a brief moment of nervous laughter. "I would try to take her knives away from her, but she'd probably stab me first."

I hear the hoarseness in my voice. I sound depressed and scared more than sarcastic.

Katniss seems to think about something for a second, looking at me with slight curiosity… or maybe disapproving interest… I'm not sure. Fortunately she breaks the awkward silence first, "Wha…How do you do it?" She asks, and I haven't the slightest idea what she's talking about.

"Pardon?"

"It's just… I can't seem to figure you out." She says, and for a brief second I think she might be willing to have an actual intelligible conversation with me, unlike the sobbing mess she was the other day in her room. These past few days she hasn't really spoken to me, but I guess that makes sense since I'll be teaching her some rather… well I'll be teaching her how to have sex. And even though I've had sex with so many women since I won my games, I feel more nervous and uncomfortable right now around a woman than I have in years.

"I don't think there's much to me." I say, but I know that that's a blatant lie. I can't even figure out who I am myself, always changing between different personalities. But I can tell that this has put her off.

"Oh, well… I think I'm just going to go try and get some more sleep…" She says before heading off to her room. I'm silently kicking myself in the ass for not trying to actually give her an answer, but I don't want to make things more… I don't know… awkward between us than they already are. As nice and polite as I might be able to make myself, I'll still be absolutely violating her later on and… well I guess it could technically be called raping. This isn't exactly by her choice.

After a while of thinking by myself about how I'm going to go about things with Katniss, I stop myself. This is why I shouldn't sit by myself in the dark and let my mind wander. I've just barely met her and I'm already thinking about my approach to having sex with Katniss. Like most people in the districts are, I am completely disgusted with myself, but I know I probably shouldn't be. Neither of us wants to do this, and I'm just trying to think of a way to make myself seem like less of a douche, right? I shake my wandering thoughts out of my head and pick up a small dusty spool of knitting yarn peeking from a messy basket near the fireplace and begin to tie knots. Knots, knots, knots.

Knots and water always take my mind off of things. All I do is focus on the complexity of the knot and how to pull it apart. No matter the size, shape, or complexity, theres always a simple solution to dismantle it, which varies with different knots. Sometimes you change the angle of how you pull the yarn. And I see a similarity with my task of tying knots with my despairing life. It takes so long for me to build myself up, and every time Snow can quickly and effectively dismantle me. Just by changing his angle. The games, my family, Annie, my prostitution, and now my situation with Katniss. No matter how many walls I build, Snow quickly destroys them. Always using angles.

Eventually I throw my yarn to the ground and just daze into the fire until I drift off into a restless sleep…

* * *

**Katniss' POV**

I quickly jump out of bed when I hear the screaming, leaping from the world of dreams and nightmares that is my subconscious into harsh, blissful reality. I hear Johanna screaming and then a loud thud, I guess. I don't want to go back to sleep, fearing that the blissful, serene dream I was having of the meadow would quickly turn into a horror filled nightmare of mutts.

I step out of my room and into the hallway but stop dead in my tracks. Before me, sticking out of Johannas door is the blade of a knife. I step closer to examine it, yet with a careful distance so that I won't end up with the same fate as the poor door. It looks like Johanna either stabbed or threw a knife so hard that it sliced straight through the two-inch thick oak wood.

I step back, horrified and notice a small light out of the corner of my eye. I see the soft glow of the electronic fireplace downstairs. I doubt that its Haymitch since he'd been drinking heavily last night, and hesitate before going downstairs. I haven't exactly been… a good host I guess to Finnick lately. The only time I've really talked to him was when I was sobbing out of my mind a few days ago, but his presence had been oddly comforting.

I decided I could use a little comfort right now.

I walk down the stairs and say, "Johanna didn't get you with her knife, did she?" and am slightly worried when he doesn't respond. But I reach the bottom of the stairs and sit on the chair next to him and see that he's spacing out. Caught in a flashback, maybe. I wait a few minutes for him to snap out of it, but he doesn't.

Growing impatient, I start waving my hand in front of his face and softly calling his name. I keep this up for a while and just as I'm about to go grab water to throw in his face he snaps out of it.

"Oh… umm, sorry." He says, still in a bit of a daze.

"You okay? I heard screaming and a loud noise. When I entered the hallway I found a knife sticking out of Johanna's door." I say, scared and curious at the same time. Did Johanna try to attack him? Is that what the screaming was about? Did it send him into some kind of daze? I'm about to question him further when he responds.

"Well, she's a Victor. What did you expect?"He says, laughing uncomfortably, "I would try to take her knives away from her, but she'd probably stab me first."

For a second, I'm a bit baffled at what he's trying to say, when the realization hits me.

Nightmares.

I noticed the despair in his voice though, and my thoughts turn to Finnick again. I study him for a moment too long, but I'm curious. The man sitting before me is nothing like the sex god portrayed on television. This person is weak, damaged, scared. The way he looks now perfectly describes how I feel on the inside, but how could he put on such a mask to become the charming, sexy, perfect man that the Capitol makes him seem to be?

"Wha…How do you do it?" I ask, not realizing how vague I must sound.

"Pardon?"

"It's just… I can't seem to figure you out."I say, wondering how he could not know what I'm talking about. Doesn't he realize the fronts he puts up, blocking this side of him from… the whole world, really. A flash of recognition dances within his eyes, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared.

"I don't think there's much to me." He says, but he knows that we both see right through this lie. He must realize how his personalities seem to clash. Or maybe he isn't willing to talk to me about it. Maybe he's putting up another wall before someone can break him down. And I'm scared. Scared that I might end up like this.

"Oh, well… I think I'm just going to go try and get some more sleep…" I say, and I really do mean it. I don't want to sleep, but I know I need it. And maybe the nightmares I suffer from will eventually fade… I stop from lying to myself. Nightmares obviously haven't left Finnick or Johanna. But I steel myself and trudge up the stairs back to my room.

And I don't look back.

* * *

**AN: **So I decided to throw in Finnick's Pov for a change, and I think that in a Finniss pairing it would be good to show what both of them are thinking in some areas to show their emotions, similarities and differences. Also, what do you think of Johanna's freak-out? What did you like in Chapter 6? What was not-so-good? Review and let me know! c:


	7. Chapter 7

**AN:** Hey guys! So I know I haven't updated in a while but I've been doing a lot of semester testing so at least I have a good excuse! So hopefully I'll be able to update more often now, and here's chapter 7!

* * *

**Katniss' POV**

My boots crunch atop the fresh layer of snow that fell to District 12 last night. Every step I take creates dents in the cold, white blanket that has covered my home. The sow encases my home, yet matter how many steps I take, I will never melt it all. This reminds me of my predicament with President Snow. No matter what I do, I can never be free of his cold, wicked ways. Hatred burns within me. How can he do this to me!? I imagine what he might think if this happened to his own granddaughter. What if he knew the suffering of those who fought so hard to be free? I throw the hopeful thoughts out of my head and kick a mound of snow that fell from one of the many trees surrounding me. I will never be free of Snow, but maybe I can sacrifice my own happiness for Prim.

It's been a while since I've hunted. The woods remind me so much of Gale that it hurts, but Haymitch convinced me to get back out here. I needs something to free my mind. To keep from going insane. But I know that I'm only prolonging the inevitable. After seeing the distant look in Finnick's eyes that night… I know that I can only hope I can keep myself together. I can try to fix my broken pieces, stick the fragments of what's left together the best I can. But you can never really fix a broken glass. No matter how hard you try, the pieces never fall into place. There are too many gaps and fractures. And the harder you try to fix your glass, the more cuts and wounds you'll yield.

My feet continue to crunch the snow and I hear the rustling of branches above me that tells me my prey has heard me. But it doesn't matter. I'd never hit the stupid squirrel anyways. Hunting alone makes me feel empty. I can't describe it. Before my fight with Gale, I could bear hunting alone. It felt different, having to keep watching my back. The loads were heavier without someone to help carry our prospects. But now I can't tell myself Gale will be back soon. Another fracture splits across my glass heart. And I know it's unfixable.

A snap of a branch behind me yanks me back into reality. I draw my bow in the direction of the noise, but it's all wrong. I feel like I'm moving in slow motion. My muscles are numb. My normally sharp hunters senses feel like they're being blocked out by an unseen force. My head swims through a sea of thoughts, none of them related to the reality of the moment that I'm living right now. Only then do I notice the sharp pain in my lower calf. I look down to see a venomous snake with it's fangs deep in my flesh. I know I'll never make it back to my home before I pass out. I feel venom spreading through my veins, and just as my vision begins to darken, I see a figure come towards me. I don't hear or see anything, but I feel myself being lifted up by a strong pair of arms.

The familiar scent of pine envelopes me.

_Snakes. The rays of the friendly sun begin to twist and move, as if distorting my vision. Then I realize that the rays of the sun have begun to turn into snakes which slither towards me. Every one of my instincts tell me to move, run, scream, anything. But I am paralyzed and as if I have an out of body experience, I see the snakes devour my body, their scales glinting harsh light that blinds me. Eventually I can see again and see President Snow before me. His snake eyes devouring my soul, his tongue flicking in and out of his mouth, which drips blood. My blood. The reeking smell fills my nostrils and I see him bleed. Blood pours from his eyes, ears, mouth, nose._

I awaken and scream and thrash until I realize where I am. I'm back in my room in Haymitches house, and I am not surrounded by snakes. Instead I am wrapped in a cocoon of warmth from my plush blankets. I don't see anyone, but I feel self conscious. I'm not wearing any pants, which must have been removed in order to treat my wounds. I steal a peek beneath my covers. Bandages cover my entire left leg, which I quickly rip away only to discover multiple snake bites, still oozing pus with a slight greenish tint. I would have died for sure if he hadn't saved me. But what was he doing in the woods?

I quickly sit up, and immediately regret my actions. Spots dance before my eyes as the world swims in waves beneath me. I close my eyes and try to take deep breaths, but eventually fall back in bed. I wait for what feels like an eternity before trying to get up again, this time slowly. I feel dizzy, but less so than before. I take it slow, and manage to stand, even if it means clinging to the bedpost. I inch forward until I'm clutching the doorway, but I'm shaking. I fall to my knees but cant force myself to get up. I curl up into a little ball on the floor and weep. I know I'm weak, but to the point that I can't stand? I'm a victor.

Maybe it's stupid, but I bear crawl along the floor, digging my fingers into the rough fibers of the carpet beneath me and pull myself out into the hallway. I manage to get on my hands and knees and slowly crawl to the stair case. I force myself to sit on the edge of the stairs, and lower myself down, one step at a time. By the time I reach the bottom of the stairs, I'm sweaty and my knuckles are white. The world swims before my eyes and I feel bile trying to force itself up my throat. I painfully swallow and try to stand. Before I know it I'm collapsed on the floor again, screaming in agony and frustration until I feel a needle piercing my back. I try to catch a glimpse of the person hovering over me, but the medicine from the needle knocks me out in seconds.

In my unconsciousness, I hear murmuring and whispers. Light dances before my eyes. I can tell I'm half awake, but keep tiptoeing around the border between consciousness and unconsciousness. Eventually my mind surrenders to the drug that mixes with my blood, but I force my muscles to keep thrashing in my empty dreams.

After hours of battling with my drugged state, I fall into deep unconsciousness and blackness as dark as the inky night sky blinds me. Images imprint themselves in my mind but I cant see them. Am I crazy? My senses go from alert to numb and my mind wanders until the drug yanks me back to a numbing state, as if I'm on a leash. But I'm no animal.

Or am I?

* * *

"Hey, Catnip?"

So I was right. I'm relieved to hear his voice, yet confused. Why was he in the woods? Before I say anything, I try to figure out where I am. I force my eyes open but light streams into my eyes and I have to squint to see Gales face. I sit up in my bed and realize I'm back in my room in my house, my limbs loosely bound to my bed. My vision clears and I can finally see Gale. It's morning, and he's sitting in a chair next to my bedside, his elbows propped on the pillow next to mine. Did he stay with me all night? He definitely doesn't look tired, but his face has a weathered, beaten down look to it.

"Hi. How long have you been here?" I ask.

"Not long," he says, "I only came here a few hours ago to make sure you didn't hurt yourself… because I don't want you hurt…"

I'm moved. I don't love him the way he may love me, but I still care. I've been scared that I'd lost Gale forever, that day in the woods. But now I know that he still cares. Gale will always be my rock. Strong and solid, despite our conditions. But sharp. He has fight in him that I don't need. He would be perfect for Madge.

"Oh. Then who was here all night?" I ask. I must have been really frantic as venom and drugs caused me to hallucinate and fight.

"Finnick." He says, a twinge of… hurt in his voice? "When I got here in the morning he was still awake, watching you. Said he never slept until early morning anyways." Gale says the last part sarcastically. We both know why Finnick never sleeps. He's busy doing_ other _things until early morning. Yet after finding him downstairs a few days ago, I wonder if there's a different reason that he doesn't sleep. I also wonder why Finnick would bother to watch me, why he would care. Knowing what we'll have to do later, I feel it would be better not to let myself get close to him, to care, even a little. Maybe I could keep myself from getting hurt that way.

"Huh…" I say, lost in thought. "Where is he now? Oh… never mind. I probably shouldn't be up doing things now…"

Gale nods in agreement, but I feel a giggle surface to my mouth and bounce off my tounge.

"I saw you." I say, and Gale really looks confused, but I don't let him wonder what I mean. "With Madge."

Gale seems to realize what I'm talking about, and he looks away. But I still see the little smile on his face. "I needed to sell strawberries to her father. Its nothing."

"Liar," I tease, "Come on. You two would be good together. It seems right."

His smile fades slightly and he turns his head back in my direction, but doesn't make eye contact. "Yeah, but it wouldn't be perfect." He says, and the hurt in his voice is almost tangible. But I hear the hope in it. What he hopes for, I don't know.

"Nothing's ever perfect." I say.

"Yeah." He agrees.

"But still, you should go after her. I see the way she looks at you."

"I don't know…" He says, obviously uncomfortable with me trying to set him up with someone else.

"Well then you should go find out if I'm right. And I am right." I say, challenge in my voice, my eyes.

"Right now?" He asks, "Shouldn't I stay here with you?"

"It's alright, I'll be fine. And thanks for rescuing me in the woods." I say, but Gale just nods,gets up and slowly heads to the door. I decide maybe I'll ask him about that later. Just before he leaves, I stop him. "Actually, could you send in Finnick. I want to talk to him."

"Alright, just don't hurt yourself, Catnip." He says, and exits the room.

I lie back in bed, wondering what I want to say to Finnick, why I even wanted to talk to him in the first place. And I curse myself in my head. Didn't I tell myself not to get close to Finnick? But he was willing to stay here all night with me, I should atleast thank him, right? I keep wondering and questioning myself in my mind. Lately, my judgement has been so clouded, it scares me. It's like a fog has seeped into my mind and clouds in my head and fills my lungs and pierces my heart and freezes my nerves. Ever since the games, I've felt… afraid. Different really, and I can hardly describe it. Finnick only makes things worse. First he comforts me and shields me from my sadness, then blocks me out, and now he cares… I don't know. Having so much free time to think causes my mind to wander when I don't want to. Before, I had focus. My focus was food. My sister. Us.

A knock on the door brings me back from my thoughts. "Come in" I say.

The door slowly opens and Finnick walks in. He really does look exhausted. Dark circles have imprinted themselves beneath his eyes, and his hair looks like a rats nest. But his eyes are clear… and doubtful. I wonder what Gale said to him, but I figure I don't want to know. He plasters a small smile to his face, but he's acting so cautious. He hangs near the doorway, and I try relaxing a bit. Thankfully, he does too. Finnick walks over to Gales chair and sits down.

"Feeling better?" He asks, real concern in his voice. His voice is so soft, soothing. Nothing like the seductive purr he uses in the Capitol or around people in general. I also hear slight hurt, pain. I wonder how he can keep the constant pain out of his voice around those in the Capitol. He smells like the sea, or maybe it's just the salt of tears.

"I guess. Gale said you stayed here last night?" I ask softly.

"Yeah. Everyone said you were thrashing around from the venom and drugs mixing but I knew better. No victor leaves the Games fully sane. And I… was worried… about you." He says the last sentence slowly, cautiously, fearfully. Like a rabbit sniffing a snare trap.

"Thanks…" I say, not sure of myself. Why would he care? Why does he sound so scared? So concerned? I'm nearly 100% sure that he doesn't act this way around other women. "But why would you worry, we barely know each other."

I regret those words. They imply that I want him to tell me things about himself, that maybe I don't care about him, hate him, maybe. and he looks so fearful. But why? "Well we'll be getting to know each more than we want eventually." He says, a tease in his voice. I see his Capitol mask slip on. I know what he's implying, but I don't care, oddly. It has to happen anyways, and it comforts me that he doesn't want this to happen either.

"Well… thanks." I say. "I wish I didn't always have to sleep alone, though. It always makes me scared, but obviously to violent to stay in my own home unless I'm injured." I can tell he knows what I'm implying, but he doesn't say anything. I guess I will. "You know, maybe we could help keep each other's nightmares away."

"Are you sure that that's really… appropriate?" He says. He looks so uncomfortable in his own skin right now that its almost hilarious, if it weren't for the terrified look on his face. But I can't help it. I feel a laugh bubble in my chest and force itself out of my mouth. I laugh to the point where I can hardly breathe.

"You know, Finnick, you're about the last person I would expect to care about _appropriateness_ around women." The words fall out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I immediately regret them. They sound so harsh and full of judgment, and it isn't even his fault. I see the hurt in his eyes and shut my mouth. "I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"It's okay. I deserve it. Why don't you just get some rest now? Hopefully your leg will heal soon. I should go." He says, and I feel like beating myself up for my tactlessness. Finnick walks up to leave, but I want to make things right.

"Look Finnick, I didn't mean it. I know it's not your fault, and that that isn't how you are. I don't know what Gale said to you before you came up here, but I don't think of you like that anymore."

The look on Finnicks face as he turns around is so full of disgust for himself it hurts me. "No. You have every right to think of me like that. It's true. I'm the Capitols slut. Maybe you know that I don't want it, but it makes _me _sick. I don't know how I live with myself, but I wish I'd died in the arena all those years ago."

With that, he's gone. But I still noticed the single tear that left his eye before he turned away from my sight.

* * *

**AN: **So what did you think? I honestly had no plan for this chapter. I just started typing and... well ended up here. So did you like it? Not so much? Please review and let me know because I really love to hear your opinions and I love constructive criticism. I could also use any inspiration you have, so PLEASE review to let me know, whether you liked it or not! c:


	8. Chapter 8

**Katniss' POV**

I wake up screaming. I don't even remember why, or what the nightmare was about. But I can't stop. Terror grips my mind and I'm paralyzed. I try to move, but it's no use. I scream over and over, and tears eventually spill from my eyes. My mixture of sobs and screams continue, but then I feel a strong pair of arms envelope me, and oddly, I don't struggle. I keep screaming, but they fade away as I feel hands stroking my back and deep, soothing, comforting words stop my screaming. "Stay." I say and eventually, I drift asleep. And my dreams are no longer filled with terror and suffering. Instead, I spend the rest of my night in peaceful bliss, protected by strong arms, covered in the scent of the sea.

* * *

I wake up to birds chirping and sunlight entering my room, my eyes. I notice Finnick, with his arms around me, and he appears to still be asleep. I give a soft sigh and snuggle closer to him, covering my eyes with the blankets to shield my eyes from the sun. Just as I get settled, Finnick begins to move and I groan in protest.

"Sleep well?" he asks, softly chuckling. I force my eyes open and see him slightly smirking at me. "You're welcome."

"Oh shut up. You probably only came in here because you were having nightmares of your own." I say indignantly.

"Oh really? As I recall, _you _were the one screaming last night. Don't be embarrassed, I'll have you screaming soon enough." He says, and suddenly, his cocky smirk is extremely annoying.

"What happened to the Finnick I spoke to yesterday?" I ask. And I'm genuinely curious. How does he hide that side of his personality so well?

Finnick's expression darkens slightly. "It was Gale. When he sent me up, he said 'don't get _too_ close, if you know what I mean.' And I couldn't even be mad at him. Because it's true. I am the Capitol's whore, and it makes me hate myself. And I don't want it to happen to you. You're too good for that, and too innocent."

"You know I'm not too good for that. I'm a victor. I killed people."I say, and an awkward silence settles over us. During those few moments, I notice that Finnick isn't wearing a shirt. My first instinct would be to push myself away from him. But the after effects of the snake venom still linger, and every now and then, I don't act sensibly. So I don't push away.

Instead I blush fiercely and giggle, "You're naked." Which is about the stupidest thing I could have said and done. I don't giggle.

Finnick looks slightly confused but grins. "Not completely, unless you want me to be. I didn't know you'd be so eager."

I shake my clouded head and sit up. I'm about to throw a bitter, sarcastic comment his way when there was a knock at my door. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but Cinna stepped in, raising his eyebrows as he saw Finnick lying beside me.

Yet again, I blush knowing what it must look like, with Finnick in my bed. I try to explain, but all that comes out of my mouth is "He- I… no its not-"

"It was nightmares." Finnick says, and I give him a grateful look. "Although I wouldn't mind being here for other reasons." He says with a smirk.

Cinna just rolls his eyes, then points to Finnick. "You. Out. I need to get Katniss used to… Capitol attire." He says, and I notice the small bag in his hand.

Finnick saunters over and snatches the bag from Cinna and looks inside. He frowns with disapproval. I've seen what they wear in the Capitol, and it's _much _less than this."

"I'm planning on weaning her into smaller clothing. If it was comfortable, I'm sure she'd already be wearing it. Now get out."

"I don't see why I need to get out. I'll be seeing her in much less than _this" _He says, gesturing to the bag, "whether or not she's actually wearing anything." But Finnick does exit the room, not before winking at me.

Yet again I felt a blush creeping it's way to my face at his flirting, but turned my gaze over to Cinna. "So, what is it that I'll be wearing?" I ask.

Cinna pulls out two sets of garments. One is light green, small, slightly see through, and doesn't look as comfortable as my usual white cotton garments, but they have no comparison to the deep red, lacy, extremely _revealing_ thong and bra laid out beside them. I scowl in disgust at them.

"I'm going to have to get you to slowly adjust from wearing these" he says gesturing to the green set, "to these," and points to the blood red set. "Don't worry, I'll give you more than enough time to adjust, since I can't even imagine how uncomfortable it'll be."

He shows me an arrangement of colorful, sparkling, lacy, revealing garments, all of which I'll have to wear at one point or another. I'm going to miss my cotton underwear. He hands me the green pair which are looking like bliss compared to what he's laid out beside them. I don't get flustered or embarrassing changing infront of him the way Finnick's mere presence got me flustered and blushing just minutes ago. But it's different, isn't it? He's my stylist.

As I change into the garments, I feel the material scrape along my skin. They hug my body in all the wrong places and I can't even imagine how horrible the other garments must feel. Cinna must know how I feel because he gives me a sympathetic look.

"Just be happy I didn't force you into these," he says, holding up the blood red garments. Still, I can't keep the scowl off my face as I pull on the rest of my clothes .

"It'll be a miracle for you to get me to be like Finnick. You saw how badly I did for the Games." I say, extremely doubtful. And I can't mask my fear.

"I know, Katniss. But remember why you're doing this, and it will give you strength. Besides, it won't last forever." He says, and I can tell he's trying to tell me something, but I have no idea what.

"I guess. But I'm scared. Scared of what I'll have to do. Scared I'll be hurt. Scared I'll mess up and get my family killed."

"Don't say that. You're a fighter. A survivor. You won the games despite everything. You'll get through this, too."

A small smile forms on my lips despite my discomfort. Cinna always seems to know what to say to cheer me up, or at least give me hope. I turn and walk into my bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth as Cinna removes the disgusting garments from my room. Once finished freshening up, I head to walk downstairs. But something's wrong. As I walk, I feel the underwear scrape my skin and squeeze my flesh. I must look like I'm in a lot of pain, because when Johanna sees me in the kitchen, she only laughs.

"Just wait. Lace is _much_ worse." She says. Her words are slightly slurred, and I notice the glass of clear liquid in her hand. And it's not water.

I notice Haymitch over at my table with several bottles of booze. Finnick is sitting across from him and the two are having a conversation, which is surprising, since Haymitch appears to be half drunk.

"Well good morning, Sweetheart." Haymitch says as I sit down at the table next to Finnick, but even there I can still smell the reeking alcohol. "Well look at that. You two are already getting cozy."

At first I'm confused, but our chairs are pushed together and I'm sitting rather closer to Finnick. I quickly scoot away and scowl at Haymitch. Johanna sits next to Haymitch and clambers for more booze.

"Don't be shy, I don't bite," Finnick says with a mischievous smile. "Unless you want me to."

"No thanks." I say with a certain degree of finality. "So, you wouldn't happen to have been talking about training with Haymitch earlier?"

Johanna seems to notice the concern and uncertainty in my voice, "Well, you'll be starting sessions with me tomorrow on how to act, but your sessions with Finnick won't start for maybe another couple months. Unless you _want_ to." The way Johanna says that last sentence almost makes me blush with the implications, but I push it down.

"I'd rather take my time." I say and get up from the table. I don't know how many sex jokes and implications I can take, even though I've only sat down for a few moments. I walk towards the door where my hunting boots and jacket sit. "I'm going hunting." I say, as I slip on my boots and jacket. I don't expect anyone to follow me, and I'm surprised when I glimpse Finnick getting up from the table as I head out the door.

I manage to make my way through the slushy roads of partially melted snow and through the Seam without anyone noticing me. I dart quickly over to my crossing point at the not-so-electric fence, but I hear a twig crunch behind me. For a second I think a Peacekeeper may have caught me, but no one followed me. Then I wonder if Finnick followed me, while remembering seeing him getting up from the table. But when I turn around, I see no one. Could I have stepped on the branch myself and am just paranoid? I doubt it but head into the woods anyways.

* * *

Hunting always calms me. I prefer to be with Gale, though, but I know that he's in the mines. And I'm not sure if he would want to hunt with me if this were a Sunday. But I shoot several birds and rabbits and my paranoia from earlier fade away and I clear my thoughts of Gale. Eventually when my game bag is full, I decide to head back home, my spirits high, my head cleared, my emotions calmed. If only Gale were here…

I push him out of my head as I walk home. How selfish of me to miss Gale. I broke his heart and yet I still expect his company. But I couldn't tell him I loved him. I would be lying to both of us. I sigh and trudge on, trying to keep my head clear the way it was in the woods. As I near closer to my home (well, Haymitch's home, really), I grow more and more tired. I don't want to face Finnick, Johanna, or even Haymitch. But I can't change my predicament. I think of what Cinna told me earlier. Focus on why I'm doing this. For Prim. For my and Gale's family. Possibly for my District. And it does give me strength, willpower.

By the time I'm home, I'm holding my head high, strengthened from my time alone. When I step inside, I find Johanna and Haymitch passed out on the floor, obviously from having too much alcohol. But Finnicks not here. I'm not surprised that he stayed sober. He technically has to, for his job, although right now that isn't really a priority for him. He doesn't even need to worry about me right now, since we have a couple more months before training.

I head up to my room and am slightly surprised to find Finnick there. And he's moving his things into my room. I shouldn't really be surprised, I'm the one who wanted him to sleep here with me.

"Hi, Finnick." I say quietly.

"Oh. Katniss, it's you." He says slightly startled, and sees the look on my face. "I hope you don't mind me bringing my things here. I was thinking you'd be okay with me staying here, after last night."

"No, it's fine." I say, and notice something behind him. "What's that?" I ask, pointing behind him.

He looks in the direction I'm pointing and see's what I mean. He picks up the object, which appears to be a carefully woven net. It's not just rope, either. It appears to be made up of a number of materials, and slightly shimmers in the soft glow of the moon. I hadn't noticed it had grown dark. I turn my attention back to the net… no, a tapestry, more like. It depicts the sun setting over the ocean, and it's incredibly detailed. The soft orange reminds me of Peeta. I think I remember him saying that was his favorite color when he showed me the sunset on the roof of the training center back in the Capitol.

"It's beautiful…" I whisper, barely audible. "When did you make that?"

"It's a work in progress, really. I weave it in my spare time. Or tie knots. Or swim. That's how I stay sane." He says, "What about you?"

For a second I'm not sure what he means, but then answer, "Hunting."

"You know, I've always wanted to try shooting a bow and arrow, but I've never had the opportunity." He says, and I know what he's going to say before he even says it, "I was wondering if you'd like to teach me sometime before… we have to train."

I'm not sure how to react. The woods are my sacred grounds, my sanctuary, which I've only ever shared with Gale or my father. I don't know if I can let Finnick in there. "Well…" But then I realize that I can't share it with my father, and it's not likely that I'll be hunting with Gale anytime soon. "Sure, but that means you have to do something for me."

"Hmm. A trade? Well what do you want? I'm guessing it's not what most women want, unless-"

"I want you to teach me how to use a trident, whenever you can get one here." I say. I know how skilled he is with it. I could always learn how to weave with me, but I prefer doing something that makes my blood pump, my hunter's senses aware.

Finnick, however, looks slightly skeptical. "Maybe, but until I get you a trident, I could show you how to tie knots. It always helps me when I'm stressed."

"Sure. I'd like that." I say with a small smile, but a question surfaces to my mind. "How do you do it?" I blurt out.

"What? How do I look so magnificent? I think that it just comes naturally, or maybe I'm just gifted like that." He says with a smirk, stepping closer to me. We're inches apart and it makes me uncomfortable. But didn't he wrap his arms around me last night?

"That." I say, " How do you go from being broken, to a genuine person, to being… so…"

"Attractive?" He asks, but answers me honestly, "Katniss, I act this way as a barrier. If I were to let myself be broken all the time, I'd most certainly have killed myself years ago."

I think about this. And how I'll have to wear a mask like this, but not only for the Capitol. It scares the hell out of me, that I might need to create a false personality just to cope with myself. I push the thoughts out of my mind and begin to get ready for bed. I don't undress myself around Finnick, I'm still self-conscious like that, but he doesn't seem to think much of it. But it isn't until he has his arms wrapped around me and I'm enveloped by his warmth beneath the covers that I realize how much I had been looking forward to this all day. To feel safe.

And I don't have a single nightmare the whole night.

* * *

**AN: **So what do you think? Was the pace okay this chapter, because I'm not quite sure if I took things too quickly after last chapter, or if this chapter was all over the place... Anyways, review to let me know what you thought because I love to read your reviews, I just wish there were more!

c:


	9. Chapter 9

"Try harder."

I wink again, but the movement feels unnecessary and artificial. I've been winking over and over for Johanna, but I haven't gotten any better at it.

"Katniss, you look like you have shit in your eye. Make it more natural. But still artificial. And sexy." Johanna says with a hard look. What could she know about flirting? Johanna is the most abrasive person I know. And yes, I have met myself.

This whole past week Johanna has been trying to get me to become a good flirt, or to at least know the basics of flirting. I managed to act friendly after a couple of days, but flirting has been a failure. I can make better eye contact now, but I certainly don't have a smoldering, lustful gaze. My body language is still hostile, but less so. I can walk in heels and slightly sway my hips.

Okay, so I have made _some _improvement, but I have no idea how I'm supposed to be as sexy as Finnick within only about four months. I'm still a virgin. Hell, I haven't even had a _real _first kiss. I've kissed Peeta, but I didn't love him. Or did I? My kisses have been one sided. But then, I suppose, they'll always be. I'll never fall in love romantically with anyone, let alone a ridiculously colored, middle-aged Capitolite.

"Can't we try something else?" I plead. Winking won't work. I don't know how I know this, but I guess I can just tell that I'm horrible at it.

"Fine." Johanna says, looking even more irritated, if that's even possible, "Why don't you try batting your eyelashes?"

Batting my eyelashes? What does that even mean? I sigh, deflating like a balloon. This is hopeless, and I want to give up. But I remember Snow's threat. "Why don't you show me first?" I ask.

Suddenly, Johanna leans dangerously close to me, which makes me even more uncomfortable than when Finnick leans close to me. Her glare is hidden. A sweet smile forms on her lips. Her eyebrows raise slightly, better exposing her dark brown eyes, speckled forest green. She quickly flutters her eyelids, drawing my attention to her thick, full eyelashes. Johanna slowly moves back, her gaze heavy, her eyes half closed, hungry. Her lips are parted, slightly puckered. Asking for a kiss. Or more.

Within seconds her glare has returned to her face. I notice the tiny smirk she has though, noticing how completely entranced I was, despite the fact that we are the same sex. I shake my head, my senses back in focus. But my head clears a moment too late. Johanna's dark smile widens.

"What…"

"I said your turn." Johanna says.

I take a deep breath. _Focus, Katniss! _I tell myself. I slightly flutter my eyelashes, but I can tell Johanna doesn't think it's enough.

"Too natural. All you did was quickly open and close your eyes a few times as if you got water in them. Be more obnoxious, sensual, distracting. Capitolites won't pick up any subtle movements." Johanna says, plainly.

I try again. This time I try to copy Johanna's technique. I lean in, leaving about six inches between our faces. I try to make my face sweet like hers, before fluttering my eyes, more provocatively this time. When my eyes stop fluttering, I leave them slightly closed. I part my lips, lightly biting them. I pull back, but before I let my face return to my usual frown or scowl, I throw in a wink for good measure. In return, Johanna gives me the closest thing to a genuine smile I've seen all day.

"That was… better." Johanna says. I know it's not really a compliment, but it's the most positive feedback I've gotten all day. "But you still need more practice."

I know her words tell me I'm improving, but they also mean I'll be stuck in my room all day practicing. And I'm starving. "I think I'll grab something to eat first." I say. As I stand up, I feel rough fabric scrape along parts of my body that are usually covered by large, comfortable cotton undergarments. It's only been a week, but my bras have become more exposing, and my panties have turned into thongs.

_So much for gradually weaning me into smaller undergarments._ I think as I walk downstairs. I end up in the kitchen, searching for something to eat. I look at the warm rolls on my countertop. They're from Peeta's bakery. Finnick asked me why I buy from Peeta's parents, since all the rolls do is remind me of the boy with the bread. But buying them supports his parent's bakery. It's the least I can do.

I sit down, grabbing an apple instead. I'm about to plunge the crimson fruit into my mouth when a sugar cube appears infront of my eyes. I feel a warm breath tickle my ear, "How about a sugar cube instead?"

Finnick.

I turn to face his laughing sea green eyes. There's something about them, they always look different each time I look into them… not that I stare into his eyes all that often…

"No thanks, I don't need any sugar right now. Too much and I feel sick." I say. Finnick just laughs.

"You can never have too much of something sweet. I'm living proof of that, aren't I?" He says with a smirk.

"On the contrary, I think I've had too much of you already." I say, sinking my teeth into my apple.

"You know, you look slightly prettier when you eat. It hides your frown. Really improves your looks, actually." Finnick says pointedly. Of course, as soon as I swallow, I give Finnick a scowl with an especially large frown.

Finnick, however, is oblivious to my scowl. He gives me a smirk and pops the sugar cube in his mouth. His superiority is irritating me. "While on the subject of improving looks, maybe you should stop with the sugar. I don't know how you can stay so pretty while eating that all the time." I say, giving him a smirk of my own.

All I get is a mock pout.

"_Pretty_ is such a demeaning term for someone so gorgeous. I'm sure you could do better than _pretty_." Finnick says, giving me puppy dog eyes. Then he turns his face into his Capitol mask. Only it's not his usual dazzling smile and sparkling eyes. No, the look he gives me is heavy, lustful. I watch as he slowly runs his tongue across his lips, wetting them.

Beautiful. Sensual. Seductive. Those are the words that come to mind, but I don't dare say them. I pull my gaze away from his sea green eyes, forcing down a blush. "Don't flatter yourself." I say, squeaking out the end of my sentence. How does Finnick do this? Take any situation and create something deeper, sensual. And I hate that he always wins this game.

I see Finnick give me a growing smirk, so I make my scowl more abrasive. I see him think. His brows slightly furrow, I can almost see wheels turning in his head. Then, suddenly, he takes a step towards me. He reaches his hands toward my body. "Finnick! Wha-" I'm cut off has his hands find my stomach.

And he tickles me.

Usually I'm not ticklish, but I'm surprised by him and as soon as his fingers dance across my stomach, I burst out laughing. I laugh and laugh and laugh until I'm out of breath. I try to escape Finnick and manage to start running from him, but he's fast and is on my tail. I dash outside and sprint out of Victor's Village. Finnick keeps chasing me though, so I head towards the Seam.

Once there, I sprint around small houses. Laughing, happy, and for the moment, free, I ignore the stares of adults and children alike as I dart along the small, winding gravel roads. If I were being chased by anyone else in the district, I'd have lost them by now. But Finnick isn't any ordinary person, he's a Victor. His body is built like a horse. Strong, fast. Athletic, handsome. I feel myself tire, so I head in the direction of the forest.

Why? I'm not entirely sure. Maybe if I get past the fence, Finnick will stop chasing me. Or I could lose him in the woods. But suddenly, I realize what I'm doing. I'm acting like Finnick's a mutt, chasing after me for my flesh. In reality, I'm just running from his tickles. But the Victor inside of me thinks otherwise. I lose control of my legs as they carry me closer and closer to the fence. Once there, I quickly duck beneath the fence. I was right, Finnick doesn't follow me. He hesitates warily at the fence. I know that in District Four, punishments are about ten times worse than here in twelve. And I guess the electrical fencing sign is making him nervous as well.

I laugh at his uncertainty. Maybe it's mean, but he always seems so confident, and it's nice to be the confident one for a change. However, once he catches my smile, his uncertainty goes away and a smile is plastered to his face. Not a smirk, but a genuine smile. "Why do you frown so often? You look so lovely when you smile." He says, sounding confused.

"I don't have much reason to smile anymore." I say. And it's true, I don't. But I know the real reason. I don't want it to be Finnick who's making me smile. I should hate him, this whole situation. He'll practically be raping me soon enough anyways. But I don't hate him. And I can't bring myself to. I hate Capitol Finnick, but there are so many other sides to him. His voice brings me back from my thoughts.

"Well, then. I guess I'll just have to give you reasons to smile. It looks like tickling is one of them." He chuckles.

"Not tickling." I say, but I can't wipe the smile from my face. "Seriously, I don't hate laughing, but I also don't want to laugh to the point where I suffocate myself."

"Oh really? Well then what's something that makes you smile?" He asks.

I hesitate. I don't want to let Finnick in, let him close to me. I don't want to be attached. But then I realize that that's inevitable. I mean, he already sleeps with me, and eventually we'll have to have sex. Maybe we could be friends? Yes, friends. Just friends.

"The forest." I reply. That should be somewhat obvious since that's where I ran to. "Prim. Hunting."

I could continue. Gale, singing, swimming in the lake. But I leave it at that. Maybe I could share the lake with Finnick, since he loves to swim. But Gale is a bad idea, since he hates Finnick. And singing only reminds me of my father.

"I don't know how anyone who's met your sister could help but smile. But I've never been in a forest. Or shot with a bow." Finnick says. Of course he hasn't. District Four has no forests, and his arena didn't either.

"Well…" I say slowly, "Maybe sometime I could take you hunting." I say, crossing back under the fence and into District Twelve. "Although Johanna must be waiting on me. We should go back to Haymitch's."

We begin to head back to Victor's Village, but it's still cold outside, and my cooling sweat makes me shiver at only the slightest breeze. Finnick notices and offers me his jacket. "No, thanks." I say. It's only a little chilly, I can tough it out.

"Katniss, you're shivering. It's okay, just take the jacket. I'm always hot anyways." Finnick says. He sounds concerned, but smirks as he says the last sentence. I know that I'll probably spend the rest of the way back arguing about it, so I accept it. Finnick helps me put on the jacket, and we start heading back, but not before he wraps an arm around my shoulders. I can't place my finger on it, but it makes me uncomfortable. I don't know why. I sleep with his arms wrapped around me, don't I? What's the difference? Then I notice the stares and whispers of people and peacekeepers as we walk down the gravel street.

"Don't do that." I say.

"Don't do what?" Finnick asks. How does he not notice all of those stares? Probably because people are always staring at him. Wherever he goes, it's Finnick Odair. The Capitol's heartthrob/ man-whore. The Victor from Four. A mentor. Never just Finnick. And I don't want to know Finnick Odair. I want to know Finnick. Maybe I already know Finnick better than I thought, if I can distinguish the difference.

"Your arm." I whisper, uncomfortable. "People are staring."

Finnick looks around casually and shrugs, undeterred. But he still removes his arm. "Is the Girl on Fire scared of a little attention?" He asks, his eyes playful. "I know you'll be getting even more attention soon enough."

What does he mean? The Victory Tour? The prostitution? The mentoring? I shrug the thoughts away and shake my head. We walk the rest of the way in silence, but I walk near him, so our bodies are almost touching. I guess I do this partially for rejecting his arm, but I also notice the warmth rolling off of him. Finnick Odair; hot and lustful. Finnick; warm and steady.

I decide I like Finnick better.

* * *

By the time we walk in the door, Johanna is sleeping on the couch in the living room, an empty bottle of liquor clutched between her whitened knuckles. I think about waking her, but hesitate. I saw what she did with her knife to her door, and those were just nightmares. Well… maybe not_ just _nightmares. Finnick reads my mind.

"Should we wake her?" He asks warily, "You saw what happened with her nightmare."

"No. She'll probably be hungover, and I don't think I could take another second of obnoxious flirting." I say, somewhat glad that Johanna has gotten herself drunk.

"Oh, I don't think all flirting is obnoxious." Finnick says, smirking. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, confused.

"You don't seem to dislike my flirting. If anything, you like it." Finnick says, his smirk growing.

"I do not!" I protest, but Finnick steps closer, and lightly grabs my wrists, pulling me closer. He leans in closer, and I feel his tongue flick my earlobe. A small gasp escapes my mouth and I shiver.

"Then perhaps you would like something a bit more intimate?" Finnick says softly, sensually. I try to look away from those eyes, but am trapped. Finnick gives me a small smile, and it's different from his usual smirk. Somehow, it sends a blush to my face before I can stop it. "Oh, I knew you liked it better when I got close." Finnick whispers before letting go of my wrists and heading upstairs. For a second, I'm tempted to follow him. But I quickly realize what just happened. And what will happen if I follow him upstairs.

As usual, Finnick put me in a daze. But this time was different. He tried to tempt me. And I nearly fell for it.

* * *

**AN:** So how did you like chapter 9? I was thinking about adding smut to this chapter but decided not to. It just didn't feel right, and I want this story to be more about love than sex. But anyways, review and let me know what YOU think!

c:


	10. Chapter 10

**AN:** Is it sad that I just missed the whole Super Bowl to write this chapter?

* * *

Days go by. I wake up to Finnick, receive my lessons from Johanna, occasionally go hunting when I can sneak past Johanna, visit Prim, clean up after drunk Haymitch, and close my eyes with the image of Finnick's face, his eyes, etched into my subconscious. My daily routine is monotonous, but I don't dare ask for my lessons with Finnick to begin. Working with Johanna is tough enough. And maybe I'll admit, I don't want my tentative friendship with Finnick to change. But I know that it certainly will before my Victory Tour. And I'll be on my own again.

I slice open one of Peeta's rolls, letting the warm scent fill my nose and lungs. I miss him. The warm steadiness that I could only get from him in that cruel arena. His selflessness. His smile. His want, no, _need_ to not only protect me, but to show the Capitol that he wasn't dying for them. That he would die for me, because he loved me. I know now that he was never acting. He wasn't trying to help me survive because I simply had better chances. He loved me. With the kind of love that keeps you awake at night, the kind of love that hurts you whether you're with that person or not, the kind of love that people die for. I wonder if I'd felt the same. Or if I could still feel that way.

The sound of footsteps behind me brings me back from my void of thought. I don't turn my head, though. Because I can tell who has stepped into the room by just his footsteps. I focus my eyes on a tree outside, where a mockingjay builds a nest.

"Good morning." I say in an unnaturally cheerful voice. I'm never _cheerful._

"Good morning, Katniss," Finnick chuckles. I hear the confusion in his voice, though, "Why so happy today? Finally warming up to me?"

Instead of smiling, I just turn and scowl at him, but Finnick's grin only widens. I keep my scowl on my face though, even as I answer, "It's not_ you_. Johanna's letting me have the day off."

Something in Finnick's expression changes. I'm about to ask what he's thinking, but he saves me the time, "If you've got nothing to do, then I'd like to ask for a favor." I notice the small smirk on his face, and suddenly I'm nervous about what this _favor_ might be. And, as if on cue, I blush.

"Finnick, I'm not going to sleep wi-"

"Katniss, I'm not asking you to sleep with me. Trust me, after being the Capitol's toy for so long, I hardly even enjoy it anymore." Finnick says, cutting me off. "I was thinking, since you said the woods and hunting were some things that make you happy, maybe you could show me how. To shoot a bow, I mean."

I think about this for a moment. Should I take Finnick into the woods? It's always been such a private place for me, my sanctuary. A place I only ever shared with my father and Gale. But I know I can't have that back. My father is dead and Gale is probably off with Madge now. I don't want the woods to feel empty anymore. I know that after my Victory Tour, everything will be different anyways. Maybe this is a last chance at happiness. Besides, if things don't turn out well, I'm not obligated to take Finnick there.

"Sure." I say. I see him smile, and he looks so happy. There's something about it that makes me want to smile, too. But I sink my teeth into my roll to hide the grin that's forcing its way to my lips.

* * *

"So you're sure it's not going to shock us?" Finnick says hesitantly. I just laugh at the sight of Finnick being so unsure of himself.

"Finnick, I do this all the time. These fences are never on, and no Peacekeepers are going to get us." I say, trying to keep from laughing at him even more. I can tell my face is anything but reassuring, but I see his expression relax, his body less tense. I calmly duck beneath the fence and try to give Finnick a reassuring look. "See? It's harmless."

Once I've coaxed Finnick beneath the fence and into the woods, I begin to head over to my weapon stash. Immediately I notice how stealthily Finnick moves beside me. The alertness in his eyes, his silent footsteps. He naturally has the hunter's senses that come with being a Victor. It feels nice having him here. Finnick doesn't replace Gale, he never could and never will, but there's a… completing, whole feeling that comes with having him here. He's so different from Gale, in the way that he's not starving, scavenging for food. He's powerful, strong. A predator after its prey.

Once I reach my weapons stash, I pull out two bows. I don't usually use my small training bow, so I have no choice but to take out Gale's bow along with mine. But I don't go hunting with Gale anymore, and Finnick has experience with weapons, so I know he won't break it. But I keep my grip tight on Gale's bow as I hand it to Finnick. "I swear, if you damage this bow, I'll personally rip you to pieces."

Finnick looks at me nervously for a second, but then confidence surges back into his face. "I hope that's not a challenge, because I always win at those." He says with a cocky smirk.

I give him one right back. "Sorry, but we're in my domain right now. I could challenge you to a shooting competition and I'd win by a landslide." I say. It feels nice to have the upper hand for once.

Finnick holds up his hands in surrender. "Alright. We should come out here more often. I like dominant women." He says with a smirk.

I roll my eyes and hand him the stupid bow and a sheath of arrows. I lead Finnick over to a small clearing that's conveniently in front of a large oak. I walk up to it and take my small hunting knife from my belt. Carefully, I carve a large circle on the trunk, along with two smaller inner circles. "This will be your target." I tell Finnick. I'm about to walk over to him, but I hesitate. I stab my small knife into the center of my makeshift target, driving it in until only the handle sticks out. "If you can hit this knife, I'll give you a kiss." I say with a challenge in my voice and a smirk on my lips as I walk over to Finnick.

He only raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Why don't you just save us time and kiss me now?" Finnick says, and I watch a smirk creep to his lips. "I always win challenges; it's only a matter of time until I hit that knife."

"Because, I don't give out kisses for free, you'll have to earn it." Even as I say it, I know I'm wrong. I'll be giving up more than kisses soon enough. But I'm grateful that Finnick goes along with it.

I step back and watch as Finnick attempts to nock his arrow. Fortunately, he seems to have guessed correctly and did it right. "Like this?" He asks, and I give him a small nod.

"Try pulling it back like you're about to shoot, and hold the position." I say. He does as I tell him, and I immediately notice several flaws in his form. First of all, his stance looks more like he's about to throw a trident rather than shoot an arrow, so I decide I may as well fix his stance and posture first.

I fix little things first, nudging his feet so they're perpendicular to the target, moving his fingers and loosening his grip. I step back, and he looks better, but his posture is still horrible. I push on his front shoulder a bit, "Put more of your weight on your back foot. Yes, like that. Now rotate so your torso is facing the same way as your feet. That's better."

I adjust his neck so that it's not tilted, but his back is still bent. I walk behind him to first adjust his shoulders. I awkwardly run my hand up his spine, and he stiffens at my touch, but it straightens his back. "Push your shoulder blades a bit closer together." Now he looks like he's ready to shoot, but I can tell that his right arm is too relaxed for the arrow to go very far. I reach out from behind him to grip his hand, keeping my left hand firmly pressed between his shoulder blades. Slowly, I pull his hand back until his hand is about at his ear. I let go of his hand and quickly step back, realizing how close we were; our bodies pressed together, my hand on his.

"Shoot." I manage to squeak out. Finnick lets go and the arrow whizzes past the oak. Honestly, for his first time shooting, it wasn't all that bad. He actually needs to work more on his aim than his posture, although I did notice how he stepped forward as he shot, and that his feet were still too close together. How his grip was still too tight.

I allow Finnick to shoot a few more times. Except for one arrow that hits the side of the oak, his shots still fly off to the side. I decide that I'll have to take him out to the woods at least several more times for him to get his posture down, but I don't want him to work too hard since he's only a beginner. "I think that's enough for today."

"Aw, really?" Finnick says with a mock pout, "Couldn't we stay out just a little longer? I haven't even shot ten arrows."

"No, we should go. I don't want you to hurt yourself. Practicing too much isn't good because you haven't developed enough muscle."

Finnick raises an eyebrow and gives me a smirk. "Not enough muscle? Katniss, I'm sure I have more than enough to shoot a few arrows." He says. I begin to protest, but he cuts me off. "I think maybe I just need to remind you exactly how much muscle I have."

"Wha-" I stop myself as I watch Finnick pull off his shirt and toss it aside. I certainly notice his defined chest, and the corded abs beneath them. He's not bulky, but defined, strong athletic. I force myself to look back up to his face where a smirk is plastered to his face.

"Like what you see?" He chuckles, noticing me studying him. I pull my lips together, noticing that my jaw had opened at the sight of him shirtless.

I force a glare onto my face, locking my eyes on his face and forcing them to stay there. "Put your shirt back on." I said. But I could hear my steel barrier waver through my voice.

Apparently, Finnick could, too. "I knew you liked what you saw." He said arrogantly before picking up the bow and pulling back. Immediately I saw several things wrong with his posture, and knew immediately knew I'd have to adjust him again, and that it would require me to touch his shirtless upper body.

But if this is how he wants to play, then I'll play his game.

I walked up to him and whispered, "You can still quit now, while you're ahead.", but only got a smirk. Fine by me. I kicked his feet back into place and harshly adjusted his hands, knowing my next move would surprise him more this way.

I stepped behind him and traced my fingers along his spine, and I heard him sharply draw in his breath. As I pressed my hand between his shoulder blades, I let my other hand press his lower back and snake around his waist. Then, quickly, I drew my hand from his waist and put it back over his right hand, helping him pull back. Once his right hand was at his ear, I moved my right hand from his and onto his shoulder. I pressed my body against his, and did a fist pump in my head as I felt his muscles stiffen beneath my touch. I checked to make sure he was ready to shoot (he wasn't) and whispered in his ear "Shoot."

I watched as his fingers released the arrow, but I wasn't going to let him get away with a good shot. I quickly licked the back of his ear, and his muscles jerked in surprise. It was just in time to make his hand holding the bow jerk and send the arrow flying off in a random direction. I stepped back, letting my fingers trail along his bare skin as I did so. He turned towards me with a confused, annoyed, frustrated expression on his face, but I just burst out laughing. I probably laughed for about five minutes before I could calm down and look him in the eye.

"And _that_ is why you should quit while you're ahead." I said, matter-or-factly.

Finnick just rolled his eyes. "Oh really? Most people wouldn't let their hands wander like that just to win a little mind game. I _knew_ you liked what you saw."

And suddenly, we're both on the ground laughing. I don't know why. Maybe at just how stupid that whole thing was. Or maybe we're just nervous that we'll be going farther than stupid flirting soon. Or maybe that we did secretly enjoy each other's physical attention.

I know I did.

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**AN:** So what did you think of me adding a little more KatnissxFinnick action? Want more? Too soon? Review and let me know!


	11. Chapter 11

**AN:** So here's chapter 11! Sorry if I took a while to upload it. My computer has been having some problems... and I may have been kind of lazy recently... but I finally have chapter 11 done!

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I'm in the meadow. I sing to Prim as mockingjays try to grasp onto my every word, every note. Ribbons of sunlight dance around me, giving me warmth that spreads across my skin and sinks deep to my core. Grass and flowers surround my body. I am safe. Prim is safe. And we're, for once, happy.

And then the dream shifts. I'm no longer in the meadow, singing to Prim. Deep darkness shields my eyes from sight. I feel warm bed sheets and plush pillows surround me. And then I can see. And I see Finnick. He's hovering over me, an intense look in his eyes, one unfamiliar to me. Or is it? Yes I recognize his expression; desire. I close my eyes and feel his gentle lips on mine. Warm, soft, with the slightest taste of sugar upon them. And then the lips turn cold, rough. They move feverishly against mine. My eyes widen when I see a filthy, middle aged Capitolite before me. I kick and slap him, trying to free my arms from his iron grip. But I see the anger in his eyes.

Once again, my dream changes. Now I see President Snow before me, a mirror wall behind him. A wicked grin adorning his bloody lips. _"You have failed me" _He says, with bitterness and pleasure falling from his mouth along with his sinister words. _"Look in the mirror"_ I do as I am told. I see my reflection, and hardly recognize myself. I am dressed in my skimpy lingerie and a mask of makeup clings to my face. But I still see the bruises and the scars.

Suddenly the mirror ripples, like the small waves in the lake when you toss a pebble in. Now the mirror is glass, separating me from a pristine white room. Scratch that. Lying in a pool of blood on the floor is Prim. Sweet little Prim. She lies naked, and I see the whips on her back, the teeth marks on her limbs, the bruises and dents on her shaved head. But she's not dead. No, death is too merciful. She lies quivering in her own blood, fear in her eyes. I can hear her ragged breaths, knowing she is struggling to breath.

I smash the glass, and she dies. I scream her name. Prim. I clutch her stiffening body in my arms, cradling her like a baby. I don't care that her blood soaks my body.

"Prim. _Prim._ Prim! PRIM! _PRIM!"_

I scream her name until my throat burns, as if I'd drank fire. I'm no longer in my nightmare, but I feel claustrophobic underneath warm sheets, surrounded by strong arms. I kick and thrash and bite. "I need to get to Prim!" I yell. I feel the arms tighten around me. I start to hyperventilate. Then I feel a sturdy hand rub my back. My breathing slows.

"Shhhh." I hear. My breath quickens at the soft noise, but it's familiar, and I manage to keep myself from screaming. "Shhhhh."

I grab the figure that surrounds me and hold on to that real, solid warmth. I clutch his body as if my life depends on it. I feel his kiss grace my forehead. Sinking my head into the crook of his neck, I tell myself that it was not real. _It's just a nightmare. It wasn't real. Prim is safe. Prim is well. You're okay._

Finnick confirms my thoughts, as if reading my mind, "Shhhh. It's okay. It was just a nightmare. Prim is just across the street, safe in bed. You're okay. It's not real."

I weakly nod my head, clutching Finnick like a life line. I feel my body shake and quiver with every breath I take. I try to speak, but words don't leave my mouth. Instead, I hear a choking, sobbing sound come out. But my tears don't spill, despite my weak shaking and crying. And suddenly, I have my first kiss. My first real kiss. The first kiss that I wanted before our lips touched and craved for once they separated. The first kiss that made me feel safe, loved even. The first kiss that I didn't have to share with the whole country. Almost as soon as Finnicks warm, smooth lips leave mine, I immediately move forward for another. But my watery eyes blur my vision and my lips only catch his jaw line.

"Don't." he whispers, "It will be easier if... just get some rest."

I immediately realize what he means. I shouldn't want his kisses. Can't get attached. Because even if we have each others hearts we will still have to give away our bodies. And if Snow realizes, well, anything could happen. And it won't be good. We will never be in love. Because love will only hurt us when we have it as well as when we don't.

I'm desperate, but I just nod my head and sink my body into his, forcing my eyes closed. I try to convince myself that my life won't be filled with pain. That somehow, I will find love again. That I can be happy again. I listen to the steady beat of Finnick's heart. Eventually I get lost in its rhythm and fall asleep.

* * *

I don't know how long I dance across the line of dreaming and reality that night, but after what seems like an eternity of restless sleep, I'm finally grasped by the clutches of deep, dreamless sleep. When I awaken, an odd feeling of peace settles over me.

Somehow, it reminds me of the calm before a storm.

I lie half awake staring at Finnick, lying beside me. I see my peaceful expression reflected on his features. He looks so calm asleep, so tranquil, so innocent. And I know that despite everyone else's opinion, he is innocent. He didn't choose to be caught in the crossfire of hatred, lust, and greed which grasps Panem. And I suddenly realize that there is a deeper meaning to the saying _beauty is pain._ Beauty is painful, because all anyone can see is the surface of that person. And the surface is so appealing that they don't care about what might be on the inside.

After either a millisecond or an eternity, Finnick opens his eyes and catches me studying his face. He closes his eyes, a sleepy grin adorning his lips. "Like what you see?" He teases.

"If it helps you sleep at night." I say, sarcastically.

"Actually, it helps _you_ sleep at night." he says, his eyes still closed. I feel like punching him, but instead I move my body to fit into his. "Do you want to talk?" he asks quietly, stroking my hair. It reminds me of when Peeta would stroke my hair in that little, cold cave.

Silent tears streak down my face, but I move to keep Finnick from seeing them. But he can sense it, and I feel his fingers brush the damp trails of despair from my face. "I- Prim-" I choke out. I don't want to tell Finnick everything. I can't. So I begin with me pushing the client away. Snow's disapproval. Prim's violent, bloody death.

"Shhh." Finnick whispers in between my sobs, still wiping away my tears. I don't know how long we lie there, Finnick wiping away my tears as I try to push my body as close into his as I can, as if being closer to him will make my fears go away.

After what seems like endless years of my sobs, I pick myself back up. Finnick guides my hand as I wipe away my own tears. I push myself up and out of bed, shivering, not used to being away from the warm sheets and Finnick's body. I head into the bathroom and wash away all traces of my tears. I look at myself in the mirror. No bruises, no makeup masks, no tears. I force a smile onto my face, and my whole complexion brightens. I straighten my posture. I pick myself back up.

I walk back into my bedroom and see Finnick concentrated on an object in his hands. One of his weavings. No, tapestries. Vibrant and soft colors mix together in earthy shades to create the woods. My woods. And me, surrounded by mockingjays, sunlight streaming through the canopy of leaves to dapple my face.

"It's beautiful." I say. Finnick looks up at me, startled, but his features relax when he realizes that it's me.

"Knots and weaving keep me sane." He says, his gaze returning to his work. "It helps when I weave and image that makes me happy."

I sit down beside him on the edge of the bed, watching his fingers move swiftly along the rope and grass and fabric. "You should teach me how to weave like that." I say.

Finnick looks up at me, slight surprise settling across his features, which he quickly masks. He grabs something from a small bag on the floor. It's a piece of string, wait, rope. "I think you should start off with knots. My weaving would put yours to shame." he says with superiority, his eyebrows raised in challenge, his green eyes sparkling.

"Is that a challenge?" I ask, challenge in my voice, a small grin on my face.

Finnick smirks at me, ties three knots on his piece of rope, and hands it to me. "If you can untie one knot, I'll show you how to weave. If you can untie three... I'll give you a kiss." He says. But his last sentence is slow, careful, even though his smirk never leaves his face.

I grasp the rope, determined. Immediately, my fingers go for the knots, my fingernails trying to pull apart the knots. I struggle for a few minutes before Finnick finally takes the rope from me. He grasps one end of the rope, and tugs the other end. The knots easily untie, and Finnick's smirk only grows.

"Looks like you have a lot to learn." Finnick says.

The rest of that day, we spend on the side of the bed, Finnick guiding my fingers as I copy his knots and he teaches me how to untie them. For some reason. This makes me happy. Maybe, I think to myself, I'll weave an image of us tying knots together.

* * *

A week goes by. I blow off Johannah's lessons to be with Finnick. We spend our mornings knotting and our afternoons shooting. We both progress steadily, but I'm caught off guard on the day when Finnick hits the knife handle.

That morning, Finnick seems especially eager. "Why don't we just skip weaving and go shooting?" He asks. His face reminds me of that of an exited child, as if begging for a toy. And I can't deny the pleading look on his face.

"Fine, but can we spend extra time knotting tomorrow?" I ask. He's right. Knotting seems to keep me sane.

We quickly scarf down a small breakfast of goat cheese spread across warm toast. My pain from losing Peeta seems to have numbed somewhat. To the point where I can be happy even with a stomach full of his bread. But it still hurts. They say time is a healer. In reality, all it does is make us forget our initial pain.

I race Finnick down to the woods, and I don't pay anymore attention to the children and adults alike watching us with their judging eyes. It's like Finnick's confidence has rubbed off on me to contribute to my confidence, my self esteem.

And I'm free as a bird once I'm over the fence. I almost contemplate showing Finnick how to sing with mockingjays, but decide otherwise. Besides, he's impatient to get to shooting. I grab our bows and head to our oak. I let Finnick shoot on his own, since he seems to have fixed his form and can hit the target more consistently now. I leave him to shoot and decide to pick some berries.

I have my back turned when I hear the _CRAAAACK!_

"What was that?" I ask, turning to Finnick, who has a stupid smirk on his lips. He motions over to the knife handle.

He hit it! The arrow didn't just graze the handle. The arrow split the wood and pushed the blade aside as it drove deep into the oak, to the point where I couldn't retrieve it. Finnick is obviously a better shot than I give him credit for. And there's no way he could have faked that shot.

"How about that kiss?" Finnick asks, teasingly, a smirk adorning his lips. And, wait for it, a blush surfaces to my cheeks.

He moves closer to me, his hands resting on my waist. And he stands there, his eyes examining every inch of my face. "Well? Just kiss me." I tell him, rolling my eyes.

"Just a second. I want to remember this moment so I can weave it." He says. I don't have time to realize what he means when his lips find mine. I'm caught by surprise, but close my eyes, letting myself live in that sweet moment. Surrounded by nature, breathing in the salty scent of the sea, wrapped in Finnick's warm aura.

There was something about the tentativeness of that kiss that made me feel beautiful.

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**AN:** So what do you think? Review and let me know! c:


	12. Chapter 12

**AN:** Chapter 12 is finally here! So far, this has been one of the most difficult and also most enjoyable chapter for me to write so far. I think you guys will both love me and hate me for writing it by the time you get to the end though... you'll find out why!

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Two weeks.

Two weeks of freedom left. Two weeks before I inevitably lose my virginity. Two weeks before I lose my self respect, my dignity. And somehow, I'm not scared, not angry. But I tell myself that it's only because I've accepted the inevitable. I promised myself that I would never fall in love. It's too dangerous. I tell myself that I don't love Finnick. We care for each other, but only because we understand each other. We've been placed in the same situation. Yet I keep having to convince myself that this is the truth.

Haymitch's words still echo in my mind; _"We only have three and a half months left before your Victory Tour. You've been blowing off your lessons with Johanna, so I don't think you'll mind starting in two weeks." _

It shouldn't bother me. Yet as I silently trudge through the woods with Finnick, I can't get my mind to focus on anything else. Does he know? He probably knows that my training will start with him soon, although he probably doesn't think much of it. Another day in the office for him, right?

I shake my head, trying to clear my head as I pull out my bow and arrows from my hiding spot, but Finnick stops me. "Leave the arrows. I have a little surprise for you." He says with a smirk. Something about the timing and that smirk makes me suspicious.

"Depends," I say, putting my guard up, "What kind of surprise?"

Finnick only raises an eyebrow. "It wouldn't be a surprise then, would it?" He says, but I know he sees the suspicion on my face. "Just trust me, ok?"

"What reason do I have to trust you?" I say, but I feel my walls coming down, a little smile forcing its way to my face. And I realize, despite his reputation, I do trust him, if even just a little bit. But he sees this as an opportunity to tease me.

"Funny, you seem to trust me more at night than during the day." He says, and I hear a cautious undertone beneath his confident voice. He knows he's crossed an unspoken boundary. Night and day, are almost like two different realities for us. At night, he's safety. From nightmares, reality, and I've come to realize that I am safety for him, too. And I'll admit, yes, there are mindless touches and kisses shared, but those are different than real kisses, right? Our nighttime affections are influenced by nightmares, we aren't fully awake. Not fully aware of our actions. But that doesn't stop us from remembering them.

And he's only kissed me once in the daytime. And that was only because he won a bet. So I decide to trust him. "Fine. But don't try anything, Mr. Odair." I say, a light smile surfacing.

Finnick looks around and gives me a confused, innocent look, "Who, me? When have I been known to 'try things'?" He says, and gives me a smirk, but I see the humor in it. "Oh, right. You're talking about _Finnick Odair_, not Finnick. But yes, Finnick Odair loves to _try things_." I can hear the innuendo in that last sentence. The overly seductive expression he brings to his face looks so out of place here in the woods, and I can't help but laugh.

"In that case, I hope _Finnick Odair _stayed back in the Capitol." I say rolling my eyes, and head off to our usual oak tree.

I hear quiet footsteps behind me, and know Finnick is right behind me. But I don't look back until I get to our clearing. I don't ask with words, I simply raise my eyebrows. Honestly, I am curious to know what kind of surprise he might have for me.

I watch as he pulls a bag out from the concealment of his jacket. It's not large, but I can't help but wonder how I didn't notice it before. He moves over to sit beneath the shade of the looming oak, the split knife and arrow just inches above his head. I move to sit next to him, eyeing the bag as he pulls out his 'surprise'.

And I can't help the blush on my face when he pulls out a box of condoms. "Wha!? Y- You-" I can't even get the words out as I scramble away from him, even though I know it's useless. I was going to have sex with him anyways, so why does it matter? But I already know the answer- because I wanted to be the one to decide when I was ready. But then I see the smile forming on his lips, and hear the laughter that falls from them. He opens the box, holding it upside down to show that it's empty.

I sit there, dumbstruck as he laughs at my expense. And suddenly, I hear nervous laughter join his. How could I be so stupid? Finnick made it clear that he wasn't expecting enjoyment out of this. Dreaded it, even. But he still scared me, so I punch him in the gut. Hard.

That stops his laughter, and for a second I wonder if I'd knocked the wind out of him. But after recovering, I see a weak smirk form on his face. "I knew you were eager to get your hands on all of _this_." He says, gesturing to himself.

I just roll my eyes. "Asking for another punch? Just show me what you really brought, pretty boy." I say reaching for the bag.

Finnick pulls it out of my reach. "Pretty? I'm sure you could find a much more, fitting term. How about, incredibly handsome, irresistible… _sexy_?" He says, his usual smirk on his face. Somehow, I smile at it. But I still reach for the bag, spilling the contents, and falling into Finnicks lap. Smooth, Katniss, smooth.

Finnick seems slightly surprised, but isn't in much of a hurry helping me up. I focus on the contents of the bag. Small bits of rope, yarn, and fabric are sprawled across the ground in a messy array of color.

"What's this?" I ask, picking up a translucent green strip of fabric.

Finnick smiles, "I thought I'd show you how to weave today."

My eyes instantly light up, "Really?"

"Yes, really. Why are you so interested in it anyways? You don't seem like one for hobbies." He says.

"Well, there's hardly any beauty in Twelve." I say. "Except for here." I smile, taking in the scent of pine, the warmth of light dappling my body through fresh spring buds and leaves.

"Yeah. Although I think Twelve became quite beautiful when I showed up." He says matter-of-factly, an arrogant smirk embellishing his face, once again.

I shove his shoulder, "Just shut up and show me how to weave." I command.

"Alright, alright." He says, swatting my offending hand away, "But we should start off basic."

"Basic?" I say, pouting. It's not like I started him off with a training bow!

"Well you don't want your first piece to look like a sloppy muddle of knots, do you?" He says.

"No." I admit, "Just show me how."

"Okay, so weaving is sort of like braiding, except with a lot more material. And you layer color to create designs."

"Huh." I say, somewhat confused. "Why don't you show me how, first?"

I watch as Finnick picks up numerous amounts of fabric and begins to weave. His fingers move swiftly along the rope and fabric, interlacing them. I watch as random colors come together in shades of blue and beige to form what I perceive to be an image of the seafloor. It's beautiful. Parts of the image shimmer, creating ripples, a 3-D effect. It's almost as if I'm looking through a window into the sea.

It amazes me that Finnicks large hands could be so quick and nimble. I see the concentration on his face, the small creases that form on his forehead, and the way his eyebrows almost imperceptibly push together. And suddenly, I'm studying his features, noticing little details that I might not have before. The flecks of deep blue in what I'd thought to be his pure sea green eyes. The strong edge of his jaw line. A small scar above his lip. And l like that scar. It makes him less perfect, more human.

I turn my attention back to his work. He's almost done with it. It amazes me how quick he works, even though it's small. I wonder how many times he's woven like this before. It reminds me of how Peeta had a way with painting. But I try to push him out of my mind. I don't need unhappy thoughts clouding my mind.

Finnick suddenly hands me several strips of rope and brown and green fabric. "Let's weave a tree." He says. Since I have no idea what to do even after watching him, he has to guide my hands. It's a little awkward at first, what with Finnick constantly having to show me what to do and moving my hands and fixing my mistakes, but eventually I find a sort of pattern, a rhythm. After a lot of struggling, I think I can manage to do it on my own, but I find myself messing up. On purpose. I don't know why, but I like the way Finnicks strong hands brush against my own as we weave. There's an odd sensation when our hands touch. It's like soft sparks of electricity vibrate along my skin and nerves, through my hands to my arms, all the way to the core of my body. When Finnick touches my hands, it's almost as if he leaves warmth traced along them, which linger for a long time after. And I like it. Crave it, even. Somehow, by the slight curve of Finnick's lip, I can tell he likes it too.

Along the way, I lose track of time, and suddenly I'm done. An exquisite tree is woven into a small sheet of rope. It looks so real, with branches arching across the rope like streaks of lightning. Leaves and buds adorn the branches, with sunlight streaming in between. It reminds me of the oak that we sit beneath right now, save the split knife and arrow.

"How did you ever learn to do this?" I ask, breaking our silence.

"Same as you learned to shoot a bow, I guess. I was taught." He says, his expression unreadable. Guarded.

"By who?" I ask, because I can't help but wonder who could have such skill, such artistry. Certainly no artist from the Capitol would be able to do this. Unlike art from the Capitol, this emulates life, love, beauty. It has no cold symbols of power.

Finnick only gives me a small shake of his head. I see tears threatening to fall from his eyes. Not knowing what else to do, I wrap my arms around him in a hug. Because I know who taught him this. Annie. The girl who was ripped apart by sharks. Yes, I remember. Her games were particularly gruesome, which is probably why he screams her name at night, his voice full of terror and worry.

And helplessness. I understand. I remember feeling helpless as Prim was reaped. But I had a chance to save her. Finnick could only send Annie supplies, but I knew, as soon as she went mad, that she was a goner. The Game makers don't let those who have lost their sanity win. But lovers will hold on to everything and anything, even foolish hope, although I don't dare say this aloud. And maybe Finnick could have helped her, if she lived.

Finnick abruptly pulls away, taking a deep breath. I try to think of something to say, but I don't want it to be an empty condolence, something like 'its okay, I understand', because that's never the case. Instead I say, "She was too good for the Capitol to kill her like that." I don't know why I say it like that. I never knew her. But somehow, I know it's true. I saw her in that arena. She wasn't a killer, not like me or Finnick or a Career. She was like Peeta, in a way. They were both too good to win. Too gracious, too kind.

Finnick only nods. Pain is etched into his expression. We sit there in silence for a while. I shouldn't have asked something so personal. This is a subject for another time. But I don't know what to do, what to say. It makes me uncomfortable, not quite knowing what to say. And then I think back to earlier, and the badly timed words fall from my mouth before I can stop them, "Why'd you bring that box of… you know?"

Immediately I see Finnick grin at me, "Because I knew you would be embarrassed. Your reaction was hilarious." He laughs.

"That's not funny! I was petrified!" I said, but I'm smiling, because I know my reaction must have been ridiculous.

"Besides, I'm not going to force you to do something you don't want." Finnick says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"You wouldn't need to." I say. Snow is already forcing me to do something I don't want. But that's not how Finnick interprets my words.

"Well of course I wouldn't. Have you seen me?" Finnick teases, smirking down at me.

"Yes." I roll my eyes. "Nothing special."

"I know you like what you see." Finnick challenges.

"Hardly." I retaliate.

"I don't think so. No mere mortal can resist me." Finnick insists.

"Well I'm no mere mortal." I declare. But I'm just joking.

Just then, something in Finnick's face changes. It's only a flicker of an expression, and it's gone before I can read it. Before I can even verify that it was ever there. "You're right." He says, the edge of his lip curling into a smile, "You're a goddess."

"I'll settle for being a Victor." I say. I smile, but I have no idea where this could go.

"Are you sure about that?" He asks. Suddenly I realize how close we are.

"Yes."

"Then let me change your mind." He whispers. Before I can even wonder what his words mean, his lips are upon mine.

I feel his arms wrap around me, but nothing fully registers in my mind but the warm sensation of his lips on mine. He is gentle. Too gentle. My lips move along his before I can even realize what I'm doing. There is a storm inside of me, a battle. My mind screams for me to pull away, to break any attachment to save myself from the hurt that love brings. My heart is torn. And my body does nothing but pull me deeper into the kiss. There is movement, and I feel the smooth skin of Finnick's hip. Huh. I don't recall slipping my hand beneath his shirt.

My touch only encourages him. I feel his lips move swifter against mine, and I feel dizzy from the pleasure. This kiss is nothing I have ever experienced. It's full of desperation… no, something darker. Primal. But it is equally filled with a four letter word that I don't trust myself to even think. _Love. _And I've thought that dangerous word. I can't remove it from my mind. But then I realize why I'm scared, why it's dangerous. Love is beautiful fear. So I let the fear overwhelm me, because I crave it too much to push it aside.

Finnicks lips part, and so do mine. Finnick moves his hand to graze his fingers along my neck. The slight touch would have paralyzed me if it weren't for the electricity sparking along my skin, pulsing through my veins to the beat of my heart. My hands slide along his firm abdomen, pulling his shirt up.I feel a smile form on his lips. He pulls away, a hand pressed against my jaw so I can't turn to kiss him as he whispers in my ear.

"Miss Everdeen, are you asking me to _undress_?" I hear the tease in his voice. I also hear the innuendo.

"Only partially." I whisper back so softly that my voice is barely audible, a smile playing on my lips.

I watch as Finnick pulls off his shirt in a swift, almost graceful motion. My half closed eyes don't focus on his smirk. They greedily take in the athletic muscle coated with smooth, golden skin, hypnotizing me. But they don't stay there for long, because almost immediately Finnick has his lips on mine again. His hands trace the small of my back, and I shiver.

I touch the nape of his neck with my fingers, trace his jawline, letting my fingers wander to his bronze hair. I almost don't feel like I'm in my own body. I feel everything, yet I have no control. Most of me doesn't mind, even likes being wrapped up in Finnick's embrace with the scent of the sea filling my nose as his velvet lips caress mine. Yet a tiny voice in my mind tells me 'you can't love him!' I ignore it and let myself get lost in Finnick's aura, until another voice fills my ears.

"Katniss." My name pierces the air, the pitch curving upwards in a question, full of pain. That whisper, no, gasp, causes me to freeze. Slowly, I pull my body away from Finnick, my hands leaving his chest. But my eyes stay focused the ground, because I am afraid. I don't look at Finnick because I am afraid of what his expression will hold. I don't look in the direction of the voice because I know who it belongs to, and it makes me afraid. But I can't simply walk away from the storm I have created. Or am about to create. It's too big to handle, yet too powerful to escape.

So I push down my fear and look up to meet the stormy gray eyes that belong to none other than Gale.

* * *

**AN: **So what do you think? Sorry this chapter took longer than I'd wanted, I was having some major writers block while writing it. That aside, what do you think will happen in the next chapter now that Gale has caught Katniss and Finnick together? Review and let me know what you think!

ps, sorry for the cliffhanger... well not really. Mwahaha!

pps, no, but seriously I (might) try and get the next chapter posted quickly for you guys.


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